


what a wicked game you play, to make me feel this way

by morningstars_x



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternative Lifestyles, Angst, Cam Girl, Conflict, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, POV Alternating, Romance, Secret Identity, Sex Work, Sexual Tension, Smut, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:34:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 63,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningstars_x/pseuds/morningstars_x
Summary: If there's one thing Lucifer Morningstar would never need to pay for is sex. Everything changes when the young and incredibly interesting Cherry Jane comes into his life through a camming website. Being a cam girl is her job and if he wants to know why he feels this strange attraction to her, he'll need to pay.Cherry Jane's mask covers more than just her face and Lucifer is about to find out how much connection doesn't need to be physical to be real.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 342
Kudos: 398





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I'm back with the first real multi-chapter fanfic I've ever written.  
> This story took me over a month and a half to write and it's actually pretty dear to me because it was sort of a coping mechanism for me to get out of a pretty difficult mental state of mine.
> 
> A few disclaimers are in order for this one:  
> Cherry Jane (aka Chloe) is a cam girl in this fic. Yes, that's right. There are reasons behind it but if you're not comfortable with sex workers this story is not for you.  
> Also, she's younger than canon Chloe. If the age gap between her and Lucifer makes you uncomfortable this is also not the story for you (although I don't see much of a difference, considering the dude is literally 13 billion years old, but you do you).  
> English is not my first language so keep that in mind, considering I do not have a beta-reader and every error and typo is mine, so be kind.
> 
> The entire fanfiction is rated explicit for future chapters, but the first few will be unproductive so don't expect smut on chapter 2 lol.
> 
> Anyway, I want to thank Silvia and Carmen for listening to me rambling about this fic every day without having a single clue about the plot, you two made me finish this story and I'll be forever thankful. 
> 
> I hope you will all hop on this ride with me and enjoy it! As usual comments and critiques are very much appreciated. You can find me on twitter as @morningstars_x for more updates and just random tweets.
> 
> See you soon x

The penthouse situated on the last floor of the building where Lux was located was rarely empty. Its bedroom — and every other room, really — was usually filled with guests, at least one per night, but most likely several. Men and women came and went, as Lucifer took them up on the elevator for a night they would certainly remember but would lead nowhere near an actual relationship.  
He hardly saw one of his lovers more than once, and they all seemed perfectly content with that.

His lovers knew exactly what they were getting themselves into when accepting to spend the night in his company. He would make it really good for them, fulfilling each and every single one of their deepest, darkest fantasies, but it was just sex. No strings attached. They knew no one would ever be able to make him want a deeper connection with any of them.

He had a certain reputation after several years in Los Angeles. Everyone knew him as the best lover in town, some visiting his club for the sole purpose of sleeping with him. A few had even been ready to give up their souls — as if he would ever care about that — just to spend the night between his sheets. That was obviously not the kind of favor he granted. He had absolutely no difficulty finding a body to warm his bed up at night. Favors were something else entirely, a thing he had been doing ever since he had first come to Earth thousands of years before.

On a particularly warm autumn night though, the elevator doors slid open to reveal an unusually lonely Lucifer. For some reason, he didn't quite feel like having company that night. He had spent the last several hours down at the club, flirting with several patrons who were more than hopeful to finally get a taste of his renowned amatory skills, but had left when he had realized he wasn't really in the mood. Being always surrounded by people made him crave a little solitude, even just for one night.   
Getting rid of his jacket and discarding it on the piano bench, he proceeded to grab a bottle of whiskey, pouring a generous dose into a glass. He drank it up in a single gulp, refilling and drinking a few more times before he strolled to one of his Italian leather couches.

His laptop was still there from when he had last used it, so he decided to pick it up and find something to do. He thought about watching a movie or searching for a good playlist to listen to, but when the screen lit up, he was met by a porn site. 

His light chuckle echoed in the silence of the penthouse. It was a rare occurrence for him to indulge in videotaped sexual content, but it did happen from time to time. Desire and its every form fascinated him immensely, and he almost saw that as some kind of research on humanity's most hidden, darkest depravities. That night didn't feel like one for voyeurism, so he decided to click on the exit button and go his merry way. 

As he did that, a pop-up flashed on the screen, displaying various girls and boys that seemed to be talking to a camera. Most of them were scarcely dressed, a few in lingerie or nipple pasties, others wore costumes that varied in genre. That was the moment he saw the name _Cherry Jane_ for the first time. 

It was written upon the clip of a young, pretty woman, who appeared to be not older than twenty years old. Her hair was straight and long, dyed a bright shade of red — probably a wig, he found himself thinking — and the upper half of her face was covered by a lacy black mask. It framed her light blue eyes perfectly, giving them depth, accentuating the color to the point it looked unnatural. Maybe she was wearing contacts, he wasn't sure of that. The way her full lips moved as she spoke seemed almost magnetic. A black, strapless top was the only piece of clothing he could distinguish since she was hugging a fluffy pillow that covered most of her bottom half.   
When his eyes traveled back to her face, he found her laughing at something with her head thrown back, the long neck vibrating with the sound that was muted to him. He couldn't help but wonder what she was laughing so carelessly about, almost awestruck by her beauty. 

Absent-mindedly, his fingers moved on the trackpad to click on her video feed. A registration page loaded before his eyes, making him grunt in frustration. Humans and their stupid bureaucracy. He just wanted to watch that young, pretty lady, why did he have to put in all his data to be able to do that? Nevertheless, he obliged and created a profile to access the site, chose a screen name, and inserted his credit card information. Not that he intended to pay for that kind of service. Lucifer Morningstar did not need to use money if he wanted to have sex, that was sure. Virtual sex was also out of the question. 

When his profile was active, the page he had intended to reach all along finally loaded. There she was, in full screen, still holding the pillow close to her chest. Her eyes were scanning the screen in front of her, probably reading the chat on the side of her stream. 

"Oh, hey there PrinceOfDarnkness69, nice nickname," she giggled, reading what he had chosen as an admittedly cheesy alias. 

For some reason, she sounded nothing like he had imagined she would. Her voice was deeper than he expected, smooth and warm, feminine in a very effortless way. Maybe some stupid preconception had led him to believe she would have a high-pitched, childish voice, but evidently, this one suited her way better. 

The sound of coins tinkling shook him from his inner monologue, and she seemed to also notice it, looking at the screen again.

"Thank you for the donation, BigD76, you can request something if you like," she informed whoever had just tipped her ten dollars. 

_BigD76: take off ur top_

The smile that appeared on her face looked rehearsed, calculated. "My clothes are worth more than ten bucks, buddy."

Lucifer instinctively smiled at her retort, somehow proud of her, even though that feeling didn't exactly make sense to him. Cherry Jane was a complete stranger, an attractive one for sure, but a stranger nonetheless. Yet, he was so intrigued by her without an apparent reason. There was something that attracted him, and he intended to find out what it was.

_slyther_in182: how was your day babe?_

He watched as her eyes skimmed over the text on her screen. "It was good Joey, thanks for asking," was her reply. 

The guy must have been a regular since she had addressed him by name. How long had she been a cam girl? Did she do it simply for money, or did she enjoy it? Maybe that was her kink, being looked at, having people spend money on her in hopes of a piece of clothing coming off? Was there more than met the eye? 

His fingers hovered on the keyboard, the necessity to write something strong inside him. Nothing he thought of seemed good enough. He felt foolish; such an ancient, powerful celestial acting like a teenage boy that didn't know how to talk to his crush. Pathetic, really.   
Still, he started to write something out a few times, deleting it soon after. As she kept on chatting to the other guests in the chatroom, an idea came to him.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Why are you holding that pillow?_

"Well, it's fluffy and very soft. I just like it," she shrugged, tightening her arms around the cushion, squeezing it, and smiling broadly. 

From his speakers came the same coins sound, telling him someone had donated again. It was another ten dollars. 

_BigD76: show a little more body_

Her cute laughter died down. "Okay, guess none of you appreciated my pillow," she joked, throwing it next to the other pillows at the head of the bed she was sitting upon. 

With that barrier removed, her midriff and legs came into view. As he suspected she was thin, her abdomen flat and her legs toned. He couldn't tell how long they were, seeing she was sitting cross-legged, but he had the feeling she was at least 5' 5" or more. Ripped denim shorts cover her bottom, leaving a sliver of skin exposed just where her navel was. She had a belly button ring, nothing too excessive, only visible when the light shone upon it and made it twinkle.

Lucifer scrunched up his nose. He found piercings somewhat cheap, but he had to admit hers looked nice on her body. He pictured himself playing with it, teasing her with his tongue as she squirmed under him. Why did he feel so much like a creep? Every man on that site was probably imagining doing way worse things to her. Even so, it didn't feel right. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and index finger, closing his eyes as a frustrated sigh escaped his lips. A weird desire of being noticed by her was growing inside him. He swore it sat on his chest, making him uncomfortable. That wasn't usual behavior for Lucifer. None of it made the slightest sense. He normally was the object of other people's desires, fulfilled them, amplified them. Why was she having this kind of effect on him?

"Do you want me to take off my top?" Cherry Jane's voice asked through the laptop, startling him. 

He noticed someone by the screen name of god0fthunder had just given her fifty dollars, requesting her to take off a garment. The user said yes, and he watched as her long, skinny fingers slid across her torso, reaching the hem of her top. She lingered just a fraction of a second, then lifted the black fabric, pulling it off of her in one swift motion.   
Red lace covered her breast, a sheer strapless bra with big embroidered roses making its appearance once she had removed her top. 

_god0fthunder: well that was disappointing_

"You didn't honestly expect to see my boobs for fifty dollars, now did you?" Her laughter resonated in the empty penthouse like music, and she stuck her tongue out at the webcam. 

_slyther_in182 just tipped $200_

The girl clapped her hands together. "Well, it seems I have a private session to make," she announced. "I have to go for now, but you can catch me tomorrow night at ten o'clock. Hope you will all be there." As she said that, she winked and blew a kiss, then her stream went dark. 

A private session? He wasn't even aware that was a thing. He had barely gotten any time with her, and she was already gone.   
Lucifer closed his laptop abruptly, dropping it on the couch with little to no caution. He undid the first few buttons of his white shirt, getting up to get himself another glass of delicious amber liquid. His brain barely registered the sound of the elevator as its doors opened and Mazikeen stepped out of it.

"What are you doing here? There's a bachelorette party downstairs," was the first thing she said, looking him up and down.

"Yeah, I... uh, forgot about it."

The demon frowned visibly. "You never forget a bachelorette party."

Maze knew him fairly well, probably better than anyone else. She had sworn loyalty to him down in Hell, promised to follow him anywhere and protect him, which was the reason why she was now living in Los Angeles with him. She would always call him out on his bullshit and he expected nothing less of her.

"I'm simply not in the mood, Mazikeen," he shrugged, hoping he would sound nonchalant.

"Lucifer Morningstar, king of desire, not in the mood?" Her arched eyebrow told him how much she wasn't buying it.

He shook his head while pouring another glass of whiskey. "I'd like something more... private, tonight. Kindly get back to the club and fetch me a Brittany, would you?" He gestured towards the elevator. "The redhead one, please," then added as an afterthought. 

Maze scoffed. "Sure."

As he watched her walk back to the elevator, her hips swaying with every step, he sincerely hoped a good lay would him get rid of the thought of the pretty masked girl smiling from the screen. 

* * *

  
It hadn't worked. Not in the slightest.

That night, while the red-haired Brittany moaned and panted his name in her shrill voice, he had imagined Cherry Jane under him. Her ivory skin and sultry voice kept flashing in his memory, making him incredibly aroused but unable to feel entirely satisfied. That girl was a mere surrogate, someone to keep his bed warm and himself pleased while the object of his fantasies remained unreachable. 

By the time Brittany had finally fallen asleep due to exhaustion, he had already decided he would go back to visit the site the next night. He felt like a stalker but just couldn't help it. Somehow, he had to find a way to get her out of his system; the sooner, the better. 

As he went by his day, he surprised himself checking the time on multiple occasions, almost wishing it would speed up. The hours seemed to slow down, time mocking him and the anxious feeling that kept constricting his chest. He had tried to convince himself there was something about her that just didn't sit right with him. Maybe they had met before, had sex even, but there was something strangely familiar and attractive about her; he couldn't quite put his finger on it but it was there.

Maze kept shooting glances at him from across the bar whenever he was in sight. She didn't dare confront him, knowing it best not to play with his admittedly short temper, still, the way her eyes seemed to follow him around made him even more nervous. In a way, they cared about each other, but she sometimes seemed to forget he was the one in charge. He mostly chalked it up to overprotectiveness, nevertheless, she sometimes took it too far and stuck her nose where it didn't belong. What he did or didn't do in his free time was none of her business. 

When Lucifer told her he intended to order in and spend a quiet night in the penthouse, he could almost hear her thinking this wasn't his normal behavior. 

"Lucifer, if there's anything wrong... I mean," she cleared her throat, shooting him a worried albeit almost hopeful glance, "if you miss Hell and want to go back..."

He snorted loudly. "Missing Hell? That is the most insane idea you could have ever come up with. I hate that place, Maze, you know that. I made you cut my bloody wings for exactly that reason," he reminded her.

Slowly, she nodded. "Right. You've been acting weird, I was just wondering if maybe all this human contact wasn't... effecting you, in some way."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Nothing," she said a little too quickly, throwing her hands up in surrender. "It's just weird you'd skip two nights of wild partying in a row."

It was weird, he was well aware of that and would do anything to try and figure out the reason himself. "I might be the Devil but I need some time to recharge, too. I will be back to the usual lifestyle in no time." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince more, Maze or himself. 

She simply nodded, getting back to sorting out the bar for the start of the shift. 

It was almost eight in the evening when he rode the elevator up to the last floor of the building. He decided to take a quick shower, after which he dressed in silky pajama pants and robe. Grabbing a glass and the bottle of whiskey with him, he sat on the same couch of the previous night, leaving the liquor on the table in front of him. 

The laptop screen still showed her page, but next to Cherry Jane's name there was a smaller text reading _offline_ in light grey. It was too early, he knew that, yet had felt the need to check anyway. 

He left the computer open beside him as he ate some Italian takeout, drinking more than half the bottle of liquor while he dined. His celestial metabolism made him unable to get drunk, which was absolutely a pity. He rarely ever felt tipsy, and that involved amounts of alcohol that could kill a human being. Not that he intended on getting wasted that night; he wanted to be sober, present, to try and solve that mystery in shiny red hair. 

Someone he had the feeling they had met before. There was this weird sense of recognition inside of him he couldn't ignore even if he tried. Lucifer was not used to obsessing over anyone, especially not humans. They did fascinate him, but that was about it. She couldn't possibly be that different from the rest. 

"Oh, someone's already online." Her voice sounded flatter, less upbeat than the night before, but surprised him nonetheless. He almost let go of the takeout box in his hand, scrambling to set it aside so he could pick the laptop up and rest it on his thighs. "Nice to see you again, PrinceOfDarkness," she added.

The twinge of excitement he felt when she called out his screen name was entirely unnatural for Lucifer. It was new and different, scary even, but not in a bad way. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Hello._

He mentally cursed himself as soon as he hit the send button. Hello? Could he be any more boring?   
Cherry Jane waved at the camera, and for the first time, he really focused on her. Her hair was still a deep vermilion, but the strands that framed her face the day before were now braided on each side and connected on the back of her head. She wore a simple white t-shirt, cropped just below her breasts, and a pair of full-length leather leggings. The navel ring caught his eye again, barely visible through the screen. The same lacy mask covered her features, and her lips sported a red lipstick that seemed to match the color of her hair. 

"Hey everyone, I see a couple of new users here." The cheery, excited tone came back in full force, and at that moment he realized she was putting on a show. 

Of course she was, how could he have not thought about it sooner? Sure, no one wanted to watch a brooding cam girl. They tuned in for the thrill, to watch her and make her do things and she would oblige. He wondered what had led her to that job. Lucifer hardly ever judged human's life choices, yet he felt like she could have done better than that. But honestly, who did he think he was to make assumptions about this girl he knew nothing about?

As more and more people started to gather in the chat room, donations began to flood in, asking her to do various things. He noticed how she didn't accept every request but picked and chose what she was probably comfortable doing. It also depended on the sum of money the users gave. 

Lucifer didn't know why he cared, but he had to get to know her better. It became evident that doing so during a public stream was simply impossible, seeing how occupied she was in answering questions and fulfilled whatever kind of desire she was paid for. He had to do the only thing he had sworn he never, ever would: pay for her time. Money was anything but a problem for him, it was the principle that made him feel the slightest bit icky. Ignoring that feeling wasn't as difficult as he thought, though, and he tipped her two hundred dollars like he had seen that guy do the previous night. 

The notification sound told her about his donation. He watched her hesitate just a second, before asking, "would you like a private session, PrinceOfDarkness?"

Almost as a subconscious reflex, he nodded, then realized he had to type out his response. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Yes, please._

Her eyes skimmed over the text. "Okay guys, sorry to cut our stream short but you know how it works." She shrugged. "You'll find me here Friday at ten as usual, have a great night!"

As the live stream went blank, another page popped up, showing Cherry Jane in a slightly smaller window and an empty one for him. 

"Okay, since you're new to my streams this is how it works," she started to explain, sounding so businesslike it almost felt like the one he was looking at was a completely different person. "I don't do video private sessions with customers I don't know, so you can use your microphone if you like but can't turn on the camera. The money you paid gives you access to some alone time with me, but not the sexual stuff. Sorry buddy, you have to pay more for that." The corners of her blood-red lips turned up in a smirk. "You can ask me whatever you want, but know I won't, under any circumstance give you private information or anything of the sort. I also have limits, so if I say I won't do something I'm not comfortable with, I. Will. Not. Do. It. I don't care how much you pay me, or if you threaten to sue. Got it?" She asked, concluding her speech. 

Lucifer's eyes widened at the speech. It sounded very much rehearsed as if she had repeated the exact same words over and over again, which she probably had. It made sense. He would never force her or threaten her in any way. There probably was no one who could comprehend free will and the longing for it better than him.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I understand._

She nodded. "You have thirty minutes starting now. And you can turn on your microphone if you want to," she informed him, getting more comfortable on the bed. 

He thought about it for a second, then decided against it. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I'm fine with the chat, thank you._

Her eyebrows raised slightly. "Whatever floats your boat." Arching her back, she seemed to be stretching as to get ready for whatever was about to come. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: How was your day?_

"It was fine, maybe a little tiring... What about yours?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Long and boring._

She tilted her head, almost in a childlike way. "Oh, sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do to make it more interesting?" The way she bit her lips was undoubtedly fake, a staged move to get more money out of whoever was on the other side.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I'm fine with just talking, really._

"Ah..." Her tone was surprised, but not entirely. She seemed to relax a bit.   
  
His fingers moved across the keyboard as he wrote his next response.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Is that a strange request?_

She chuckled. "No, not really. You'd be surprised by how many people here just want to talk. Apparently, cam girls are an improved version of therapists," she joked, rolling her eyes just a little.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Is your hair real?_

As a first question, it probably was stupid and meaningless, but he had to know. 

"Nope," she answered, popping the P. "It's a wig. You can even request a different one for next time if you want, I have a few different ones." Her voice was back to the soft, calm sound he had heard when he had been the only one in the chat. "And before you ask, no, natural hair is not an option," she added as an afterthought. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: That's a bummer._

A lopsided smirk appeared on her mouth. "Life isn't fair, sorry to break it to you."

In the silence of the penthouse, Lucifer's laughter echoed for a few seconds. She seemed smart and funny but disillusioned in a way she should have not been at such a young age. What had life thrown her way, to make her who she was now? 

"Can I ask you something?" Her interest had been somehow piqued, and he was just as curious to know what she wanted. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Sure, go ahead._

"Why the nickname? Are you a heavy metal fan or something?"

He couldn't stop the chuckled that burst inside his chest and escaped his lips, amused by her question. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I do have some Ozzy Osbourne in my music collection, but no, that's not the reason._

A hand went to her mouth, a long digit sneaking between her lips so she could bit on its tip, almost lost in thought. "Why, then?"

He pondered what to answer next, deciding to simply go for the truth. Lying was never an option for him and he wouldn't start making exceptions now.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Because I am the Devil._

Cherry Jane's expression went from surprised to skeptic. "Aren't you, now? Well, how does the wi-fi work down there?" 

It was evident she didn't believe him, and he hadn't expected her to. No one ever did. Humans struggled greatly when it came to divinity or the comprehension of it. If he wanted to, he had an easy way to make every single one of them a believer, but he reserved that part of him to the ones who actually deserved it. As far as he could tell, she wasn't one of them. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Poorly. It works perfectly fine here on Earth, though._

There was a glimmer of playfulness in her eyes, and he found himself smiling at the screen, liking that sight more than he should have. "The Devil is walking among us, then?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Precisely. Hell tends to get a little boring, after eons of forced-labor._

"Makes sense," she said, then burst into laughter. "I'm sorry, but you're seriously a weird one."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I assume you don't believe I exist?_

She pondered her answer for a few seconds, as her laughter slowly died down. "No, not really."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Are you an atheist?_

"I guess you can say that. I do believe in right and wrong, good and evil, but celestial creatures watching over us and judging based on how we acted in life? No. Sounds far-fetched to me." She shrugged, tucking a loose strand of fake hair behind her ear.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Fascinating._

And he truly thought that. She definitely wasn't the first atheist he had encountered, but the fact she didn't believe in his existence at all made her all the more interesting. 

"I think people who do bad things should be punished while they're alive. We can't just hope in some _divine justice_ that might never come." It sounded incredibly personal to her, and Lucifer wondered whether she was thinking about something in particular. "Sorry, that went dark really quickly," she added, trying to lighten up the mood.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Don't worry. I like your way of thinking._

A hint of a smile blossomed on her lips. "Well, thank you, I guess." He saw her checking the clock, and he instinctively knew what she was about to say. "Time's up, unless you want to pay for more."

The way his first instinct was to say yes scared him. That girl was a complete stranger — and an interesting one at that — but had some kind of power over him he couldn't bring himself to comprehend. He would never let someone other than himself control his life. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I think I'll pass. Have a good night._

For a split second, he thought she looked disappointed, then a smile returned on her face. "Alright. Goodnight, _Lucifer_ ," she told him, ending the stream a moment later.

The way his name had rolled off her tongue shocked him. How could she possibly know? He was sure he hadn't told her, yet she had clearly said his name. As he tried to figure out if it was possible someone could read minds through a computer screen, he realized she probably meant it as a joke. Lucifer was just one of the many names humans used to refer to the Devil, and she had probably just gone on a limb and happened to choose the right one.

The worst thing was how he liked the way his name sounded when it was her saying it. Even scarier was how he hoped to hear that word come out of her mouth again and again. 

"You are never going back to that site. Never. Don't even think about it," he said aloud, hoping that would help him settle on his decision. 

Those words sounded empty and futile even to his own ears. Shutting off the laptop, he got up and walked to his bedroom, then went inside his walk-in closet. The night was still young, and he surely would find a party downstairs at Lux waiting for him. He got dressed absent-mindedly, putting on a black suit with a burgundy shirt underneath, matching with his pocket square. 

Checking his reflection in the mirror, he fixed his hair and adjusted his cufflinks. He would have absolutely no trouble finding a woman, or several, to take back upstairs and spend the night with. 

He thought there was nothing a good shag couldn't fix, and for the first time in ages, he realized he had just done something he despised more than anything: he had lied to himself. 

Scoffing loudly, he strolled back to the living room and got as fast as possible into the elevator. No one, ever, would make him lie. Not even that quick-witted, pretty girl. He simply wasn't the type for connection, unless it was on a purely physical level.

It would take a literal miracle for him to want something like that, and he was sure his Father wasn't handing those out anymore.   
Cherry Jane was no exception, or at least, so he thought. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for your incredible support, I'm glad the first chapter has been well received. I'll admit I was a little scared about posting a story about such an unusual topic but you seem to appreciate it just as much as I do.
> 
> In this chapter we dive a little into the life of the second half of our beloved couple and see it from her own eyes. The first few chapters kind of set the mood for the plot so if you are looking for the real action stick around, you won't be waiting long ;)
> 
> As usual please forgive any typo or error, the work is un-beta'd. Comments are very much appreciated!  
> See you in 5 days x

The alarm clock blaring noisily into her ear startled Chloe awake, making her groan as she threw a pillow over her head to block out the sound. 

She hated mornings with a burning passion. The only thing she wanted at that moment was to get back to sleep, feeling even more tired than she had been the night before, but unfortunately, that wasn't an option.   
Pulling the sheets off herself, she turned the alarm off and fell back into the mattress. She had approximately an hour to get up, take a shower, eat some breakfast and get to her first class of the morning. University wasn't easy but necessary. Getting a Bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice was the first of a series of checkboxes that needed to be filled to get into Police Academy. 

That was the most important thing for her, the goal she had set her mind to right after her father's death. 

Indulging for a few more moments, she checked her phone for notifications and emails. She had an exam in Intelligence and Crime Analysis in a few days, her calendar reminded her. That was exactly the reason why she was so constantly tired. Most of her nights were spent on textbook after textbook, studying till her eyelids became too heavy to stay open. If she was lucky, she would be able to close up the books and get to her bed before passing out cold, otherwise she would just collapse onto a pile of papers and highlighters as an impromptu mattress. 

The nights she spent camming were even longer since she couldn't start studying before midnight on most occasions. The previous night had somehow been different. A new user had bought a private session mere minutes after the beginning of the stream, leading her to spend half an hour with him and no one else. Privates were usually the last thing she did since it brought a lot of money and meant she could end her _shift_ early. 

She had felt strangely at ease, talking to him about mundane things, not having to get undressed or do obscene things in front of a camera.   
Most of the times she did do those things, she didn't mind it. Chloe had a very good relationship with her body and knew how to use it. If it meant exploiting it to get through her University education, so be it. She was the one in control, not the men watching her and pleasuring themselves at the sight. The only one allowed to touch and feel was herself.

PrinceOfDarkness69 hadn't wanted to see her naked, had not asked for her to spread her legs wider as she fingered herself into oblivion. He simply asked about her day, the color of her hair, and had answered some of her questions in return. It wasn't unusual per se, seeing that a multitude of users sought company and affection, yet his private session had somehow felt like a breath of fresh air. Sure, the _'I'm the Devil'_ shtick was a little out there, but she thought it harmless, some kind of line he liked to use. Who knew, maybe he would become a regular of her streams. 

Sighing loudly, she finally decided to get out of bed and start her day. A quick shower gave her the much-needed energy to wake up completely, so she could apply some makeup and tie her dark blonde hair in a ponytail. After that was done, she chose a pair of denim jeans and a simple blue sweater out of her closet and matched it with her sneakers.   
A strong smell of coffee came from the kitchen, making her stomach grumble. 

"Good morning, sleepyhead!" Ella smiled widely at her from the table as soon as she entered the room. 

"How the hell are you so chirpy in the morning?" She asked, almost exasperated at her impossibly energetic roommate. 

Chloe Decker had been friends with Ella Lopez since their first day at the California State University of San Bernardino. They were both studying Criminal Justice, but where Chloe was more interested in becoming a cop and getting the action up close, Ella wanted to be a forensic scientist, a useful resource who mostly stayed behind the scenes.   
Their personalities could have not been more different, but they somehow got perfectly along. 

That morning Ella was wearing one of her usual colorful t-shirts that showed a sad taco, with the text _every now and then I fall apart_ , which Chloe was sure she found hilarious. She wore a red sweater jacket on top of it, purposefully unzipped so that her t-shirt could be perfectly visible. Her dark hair was unusually down since she mostly styled it into a high ponytail. 

"That is because I sleep plenty, whereas you barely get any sleep at all," retorted the brunette. 

"Well, I would sleep too if I were such a little genius like you and didn't need to study to pass my exams," Chloe pointed out. 

Ella almost blushed. "That is so not true."

Rolling her eyes, Chloe walked to the coffee machine and poured some of the hot, dark liquid into a mug. She filled the rest of the space with sugar-free caramel creamer, stirred it with a spoon, and took a swig. She moaned as the sweet taste invaded her mouth, closing her eyes to savor it better. 

"How can you even call that concoction coffee?" Ella shook her head as she drank some of her own beverage. 

"I don't. I call this _heaven_ ," she replied jokingly.

"I doubt they have that in heaven."

One of the many things Ella and Chloe differed on was faith. Being raised in a very Catholic family, Ella had grown up to become a fervent believer. She wore the necklace with the small cross pendant like her most precious and prized possession, not at all ashamed to show off her faith. Chloe's family had been anything but a religious one. Her father barely went to mass on Christmas morning, and her mother... well, she never was much of a person of faith to begin with and had only grown distant from it with John Decker's death. Penelope was peculiar, that was certain. The last time she had heard from her mother, the woman was engrossed with some kind of new-age cult-sounding church she didn't want anything to do with. 

As soon as she had been able to form her own thoughts and beliefs, Chloe had decided she didn't believe in God. Any God, at all. It just didn't make sense to her. 

Sometimes, as she listened to Ella and the way she spoke about the Big Guy and his plans, she envied the way her friend could believe in something with such blind faith. That was one of the reasons Chloe admired her the most. She saw the good in everything and everyone. 

Lost in her thoughts, she barely registered what Ella had been trying to tell her. "Sorry? I spaced out just a second," she admitted. 

"I asked you if you want Chinese food for dinner tonight. You're not camming, are you?"

"Oh! No, I'm free tonight."

Ella clapped her hands excitedly. "Great! Let's have a girls' night," she proposed. "We'll get Chinese, watch cheesy romcoms, and put on face masks!"

Her enthusiasm was too contagious. "Sure, it'll be great."

Ella's squeal of happiness could have probably been heard all the way across the street. She got up and hugged Chloe, who gave in to the embrace. Ella was famous for her hugs, it was something like her signature move. She on the other hand was never all that comfortable with physical contact. It didn't bother her, but she thought it required a level of intimacy she shared with barely anyone. Ella was one of those few people.

"Okay, we're gonna be late if we don't get out of here like... now," Chloe glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing how little time they still had left before their lessons started. 

"Yeah, right," beamed Ella, hurrying down the corridor to get her bag. 

It didn't take long for them to be out of the small apartment they rented together, which was close to campus, and get to their first lesson of the morning.  
The day unfolded pretty uneventfully, lecture after lecture, to the point it all blurred together. Chloe loved the idea of becoming a cop, just like her father had been, and found the subjects in Criminal Justice very interesting. Sometimes though, the long hours spent inside a lecture hall became incredibly mind-numbing to the point of insufferable. She still tried her best, and although studying and memorizing didn't come to her as effortlessly as it did for Ella, she managed to get excellent grades. 

It didn't take long for the sun to lower in the sky, the bright cerulean turning a dark navy as the evening approached.   
Her best friend and she spent an amazing night together, just laughing and eating until they were full and sleepy. Those nights with Ella made her feel normal, an ordinary twenty-two year old enjoying her life, carefree and ready to tackle the world. But a tiny part of her kept on reminding her why she was doing all of it. Her mission was plain and simple: finding the real responsible for her father's death and bringing him to justice. Most of the time she felt like indulging in silly, normal things was a waste of time but tried not to think about it. 

After a few glasses of cheap white wine, a tipsy Ella was sitting on the tiny sofa in the middle of their small living room, eating ice cream out of the tub. 

"We should do this more often, Chloe," she said through a mouthful of mint chocolate chip. Some of it dribbled on her chin, and she cleaned it up with the back of her hand.

Chloe sat on a beanbag chair, white wine getting warmer inside her glass. "Yeah, next time I'm not working we can definitely go out or something," she nodded. 

"Abou that..."

Confused, Chloe looked up as Ella sat straighter on the couch. "What?" She asked, furrowing her brows.

"I was just wondering if you were sure you wanted to keep on working on the site..." Ella said in the most casual tone she could muster.

Chloe's eyes narrowed, sizing her up. "I really appreciate your concern, but I've told you before, I make great money out of it," she told her roommate for what felt like the millionth time. "Besides, I actually enjoy it."

"Girl, you know I'm all for women empowerment and claiming our bodies, I'm just worried about you. There are so many creeps out there."

Chloe knew she was right, and her concern was heartwarming, yet unnecessary. Taking care of herself was something she had to learn at a very young age. "Yes, you're totally right, and that's why I wear wigs and masks whenever I'm streaming. I use a fake name, never give out personal info and such. Do I have to remind you I also study criminology?"

Ella rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're my best friend, I would hate if anything bad happened to you. Plus, it might look bad on your background check when you try to get into the Police Academy," she reminded Chloe.

"That's only if they find out, which I can assure you won't happen." She took another swig of wine, wincing slightly at the taste of cheap booze. "Besides, you'll help me get rid of it all when the time comes, won't you?"

"Yeah, I will," she nodded, with a little sigh. "I love you, chica, pero tú estás loca," laughed Ella, plunging her spoon back into the ice cream.

Chloe sunk into the beanbag, closing her eyes. "I love you, too... whatever that means."

* * *

Friday morning came and went quickly, as Chloe spent most of it at University, nursing a mild hangover.   
The afternoon was entirely dedicated to getting ready for her live stream, prepping herself as well as her equipment. She never knew what might come in handy, although most of her clientele was composed by regulars, whose tastes she knew fairly well.

Briefly, she found herself wondering if the new guy would show up. He intrigued her in some kind of way. She deemed the whole thing silly and went back to scrubbing her body, applying some moisturizer afterward. 

Her dinner consisted of a bowl of pre-packaged ramen, which she ate in her room as she tried to study for the upcoming exam. Ella was also working that night, doing an evening shift for the diner just across the street from their apartment. Her friend had offered to talk to the manager on multiple occasions, suggesting Chloe could work as a waitress too, but she had refused every time. Why would she ever want to start working at a diner, when she gained way more by simply camming for a few hours? Ella had the best intentions, but she simply had different prospects. 

As ten in the evening approached, she put on a raven black wig, its long strands coming down in waves that stopped just below her breasts, paired with the usual lace mask. Her outfit consisted of a mesh bodysuit, a lace bralette underneath it, and a red, high waisted skirt. Adding a deep burgundy lipstick as a final touch, she gave herself a once-over in the mirror. She looked sinful and deadly, just the way she liked it best. 

She sat on the bed, forgoing the usual cross-legged position — which would have been too revealing — and instead folded her legs under her bottom, her butt pressing on the heels of her feet. When she turned the camera on, a few users were already waiting for her. She scanned their names quickly. No sign of PrinceOfDarkness69, she noticed. 

"Hey guys, welcome back!" She began, putting on the usual show. 

In a way, she liked performing for an audience, becoming Cherry Jane and forgetting about Chloe Decker for a while. Her alter ego was confident, always upbeat, an improved version of herself. Someone who didn't have to carry the burden of a dead father or the weight of her mother's broken dreams and expectations for her. 

Cherry Jane was free, bold, and unapologetically seductive. 

She started perusing the chat, watching as the first few donations slowly trickled in. 

_markedbygod: show ur boobs_

Her immediate reaction was to scoff, an eyebrow arched in disbelief. "Maybe if you donate enough money and ask pretty please," was her answer.

_markedbygod: whore_

Chloe outright laughed. "So let me get your logic straight, dude. You're calling me a whore because I won't show you my naked body for free? That makes a lot of sense."

_markedbygod: bitch_

"And you're banned," she replied, moving her index finger across the trackpad of her laptop to find his username and kick him out of the stream. 

A few other users were congratulating her on how she handled the situation, and Chloe simply smiled and thanked them. The chatroom was filled mostly by her usual customers and a few new ones. They all knew she had a zero-tolerance policy about harassment. No matter how much money someone could donate, if they were rude and disrespectful they would be kicked out once and for all, no questions asked. 

She had dignity, and it was not for sale.

Throughout the night she kept on checking the user list, and she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed whenever she realized PrinceOfDarkness69 wasn't there. Sure, they had barely talked at all, but there was something interesting about him and his whole Devil thing.   
No one requested a private session, which stretched her livestream time a little further than usual. As she kept answering questions and simply chatting with her viewers, pieces of clothing came off, aided by the tips she received. All she had left were the bralette and her panties, a sheer, small triangle of fabric that left little to nothing to the imagination. 

Just as she was about to remove the top piece of her garments, her eyes glanced upon a familiar nickname. He was there. Reaching with one hand around her back, she unclasped her bra, letting its straps slide across her shoulders and arms. She threw it playfully to the camera, and it fell to the floor. As usual, comment upon comment followed her action, some innocent compliments, whilst others graphic and lewd descriptions of what the viewers would have liked to do to her. As long as they kept it respectful, she allowed it. 

PrinceOfDarkness69 didn't type anything out, much to her surprise. He was still there, his username showing in the user list, but he didn't comment at all. _Maybe he just likes to watch_ , she thought, although she knew he had been pretty chatty the previous time. 

"You know what?" She asked, almost out of the blue. "You guys have been incredibly generous today and I want to give you a little reward before I sign off." It was getting late, so she knew the stream had to be closed. A part of her had no idea why she wanted to do that, and the other part — the far more confusing one inside her — told her she was doing it for the silent watcher whose eyes she could feel piercing through the screen. 

Hooking the index and middle finger of both hands under the side of her g-string, as she rose on the bed on her knees, she pulled it down and off her legs. There she was, completely naked for everyone to see. 

Chloe didn't even read the comments, focusing on the usernames as they appeared on the screen. He remained silent, but still there, witnessing the show. 

"Hope you enjoyed my little gift," she winked and sat back down on the sheets. "I'll see you... tomorrow. I don't usually stream on Saturdays but I'll make a little exception. Hope you'll be there! Have a great night," and as fast as she could, she clicked on the red button that would end the livestream. 

She sank with her back on the mattress, her heart pounding inside her chest. Why on earth had she decided to stream on a weekend? Her brain had completely betrayed her, changing the words she was trying to say mid-sentence. Cherry Jane's streaming days were Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, with absolutely no exception. Until now, apparently.   
As she covered her face with both her hands, the sudden urge to scream overwhelmed her. What had gotten into her? This was not normal behavior for Chloe, not in the slightest. Was she experiencing the begging of a crush, for someone she had barely spoken to, no less?

She suddenly got up, shaking her head vigorously. That was nonsense, she did not have a crush. It was impossible.   
The urge to get rid of the few pieces of her double identity never stronger, she got rid of the black wig and mask, throwing them across the room. 

Walking over to the drawer, she picked up a pair of cotton panties, sliding them on. She found a long-sleeved shirt and some shorts she mostly used as pajamas and got those on, too. After getting her whole streaming equipment out of the way, her eyes fixed on the desk in the corner of the room. The right thing to do was studying some more, before actually going to sleep, but she simply couldn't bring herself to do it. Promising herself she would do it in the morning, she got into bed and under the covers, turning the lights off by the switch next to her nightstand.

While she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, she hoped everything she felt would be back to normal once she woke up. 

* * *

A tall, dark figure was standing in the doorway of her room, watching her. Chloe could tell by the broad shoulders and the square jaw it was a man, someone she was sure she didn't recognize, yet she wasn't afraid. Oddly, she felt calm and almost happy to see him. 

Darkness engulfed everything, making it impossible for her to distinguish his features, but she was sure they didn't belong to someone she'd ever seen before.   
Now sitting upright on her bed, back pressed against the headboard, she watched the man stroll towards her. His demeanor seemed calm, confident; he looked like a hunter ready to collect the results of his latest hunting trip. And oh, did she hope he would. 

She stopped breathing entirely when he was so close to her, she could touch him by only lifting a hand. Chloe didn't dare, but the dark figure didn't hesitate an instant. He was on top of her, his lips latching on the soft skin of her neck, leaving a hot trail as he moved upwards to find her mouth. She was more than willing to accept his attentions, arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling him closer. The warmth of his body against hers was almost unbearable. As their lips collided, a barely audible moan escaped her, as an animalistic groan rumbled inside the man's chest. 

It all felt surreal but so incredibly arousing. Her legs were now parted, inviting him between them, his weight pressing perfectly on the spot she desired to feel it the most. She swore she could combust, just like that. 

One of her hands moved upwards and raked her fingers through his hair, pulling on it gently but firmly, as their mouths still savored each other. Then, she felt it, something protruding just below the mass of curly locks. It felt hard, bone-like, and sharp. She wrapped her fingers around the thing, trying to feel its shape with her hand.   
Their lips parted as she gasped, the sudden realization hitting her in full force. In the shadows, she could distinguish the outline of two pointed shapes sticking out of his head. It was unmistakable now, he had horns.

"I told you I was the Devil," a low, gravelly voice told her. 

She should have screamed, tried to run away even, instead she grabbed him forcefully by the horns and pulled him down for another kiss.

"Chlo," she heard him say, his voice strangely high-pitched and... feminine? Confusion washed over her. "Girl, get your pretty ass out of bed, I made brunch!"

Chloe bolted upright so fast, she almost thought it gave her whiplash. Light flooded her vision as the sun shone from her window directly in her face. The stranger was gone, and when she was finally able to open her eyes properly, she realized the face staring right back at her belonged to Ella. 

"The fuck, Ella? It's Saturday, we don't have classes," she muttered, still groggy from sleep. 

"Duh," Ella rolled her eyes. "It's almost noon, do you want to sleep all day or should I just drag you out of bed and shove my fantastic quesadillas down your throat?"

She wanted to yell at Ella to leave her alone, but the prospect of a delicious brunch cooked by her sounded too good to pass on. "Fine, I'm coming," she begrudgingly replied. 

"Good girl," the girl smiled, walking towards the door. "What were you dreaming about though? You were panting and stuff," she added, a foot already out of the room.

Chloe felt heat creep up her neck. "Uh, nothing. I really don't remember."

"Oh. My. God." She empathized every word. "You were having a wet dream, weren't you?"

"Get out!" Chloe shouted, jokingly throwing a pillow at her roommate, who avoided it swiftly and walked down the corridor laughing. 

She loved Ella deeply and considered her to be her best friend, but the girl truly knew no boundaries.   
Chloe stretched and yawned, rubbing some sleep off her eyes with the back of one hand. Apparently, most of her mornings had to be traumatizing, one way or another. Throwing the covers off of her, she got out of bed and walked all the way to the kitchen barefoot, trying to detangle the wild mess that was her hair. A multitude of dishes filled the table that stood at the center of the kitchen, the smell of freshly cooked food saturating the air. Whiffs of coffee came for the pot on the counter, and her stomach grumbled loudly.

"What would I do without you?" Chloe asked, leaning down to kiss Ella's cheek, who smiled up from her seat at the unexpected gesture of affection. 

"You'd probably starve to death," the girl replied while she sipped on her orange juice.

Chloe chuckled. She didn't have the best cooking skills in the house, that much was true, but she could make a mean grilled cheese. It wasn't much, but still was her favorite comfort food, other than Hawaiian bread.  
She took a seat across the table from Ella, and they began to eat and chat about the most mundane things. 

"I was thinking," said Ella after a while, avocado toast in her hand stopping in mid-air, "we could go to this super cool nightclub in downtown L.A. tonight. You know, we could dance, and drink, maybe find a couple of bad boys to bring home," she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. 

"Downtown? It's like an hour drive from here," Chloe protested.

"We'll Uber there or something. C'mon Chlo, I've been hearing stories about this Lux club for ages now and I can't wait to experience it first hand." Ella bit into the toast, moaning aloud. "Plus, everyone says the owner is a piece of fine ass if you know what I mean."

"Never heard of that place before, nor its owner."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "That's because you barely get out of the house. Don't you want to enjoy your twenties and do what normal, fun college kids do, just for once?"

She knew Ella was right and was also well aware of the fact her roommate would pester her until she caved in, so there was no use in saying no. "Okay, fine, we'll go." But as soon as the words left her mouth, she slapped a hand to her forehead. "Ah, shit."

"What? What's wrong?"

"I'm working tonight," Chloe remembered, slumping down on her chair.

"But you never work on Saturdays," protested Ella. 

"That's true, but I scheduled an impromptu stream yesterday and completely forgot about it. I'm sorry, Ella."

She watched as a cute pout formed on her friend's lips. "Why would you ever do that?" 

Yes, why? That was a good question she did not have an answer for. "I... I could use the extra money, you know... to buy some new wigs and clothes," she said, but her words didn't sound too convincing. 

"There's something you're not telling me," Ella proclaimed, looking at her inquisitively. "You didn't start dating a patron or something?"

"What? Are you crazy?" Chloe almost choked on her quesadilla, splattering bits of it as she coughed. 

"It explains everything! The unplanned livestream, the fact you've been so adamant on not taking a different job... oh, and your wet dream!"

"For the last time, I wasn't having a wet dream, stop saying that!"

Ella hushed her waving one hand back and forth. "You were, don't even try and deny it. But that's beside the point. You're seeing one of your customers," she insisted. 

"Ella, seriously, do you think I'd be that stupid? And do you have any idea how insane you sound? I'm not seeing anyone, I promise." It was the truth, Chloe told herself. Then why did it feel so much like a lie?

Eyes barely more than two slits, Ella examined her face for traces of uncertainty. Finding none, she decided to let go of the subject. "Okay, I believe you. But I swear Decker, you owe me a night out."

Chloe crossed the space above her heart with her thumb. "Next Saturday we'll go to this Lux thing or wherever else you wanna go, I promise."

"Better keep that promise," Ella concluded, pointing two fingers at her own eyes, than at Chloe's, in the universal _'I'm watching you'_ sign. 

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, their little banter entirely forgotten. Ella and Chloe got along so easily, their friendship felt effortless, like they had known each other their entire lives.   
When the time to get ready for her stream rolled around, Ella even helped her pick out an outfit for the night. Although her usual style primarily consisted of funny t-shirts and jeans, she had a wilder side and a sense of fashion that were unmatched. 

The girl in the mirror barely looked like Chloe. She was wearing the usual red wig, which had been styled and now looked curly and voluminous. Her outfit consisted of a matching crop top and skirt set, black with tiny white stripes that formed a crossing pattern. The skirt was extremely short and had a small slit that showed off her right thigh. Sheer, white bra, and panties stayed hidden underneath her clothes, ready to be revealed if the occasion came. 

"I'd probably want to jump your bones too," Ella commented, slapping her ass. 

The girl left the room just as Chloe was putting on nude lipstick, finishing the whole look off with her usual mask. 

She felt a little nervous, even though there was absolutely no reason for it. There was a possibility PrinceOfDarkness69 wouldn't show up at all. And even if he did, that wouldn't mean anything. They were strangers, separated by a screen and who knew how many miles; two people who would never ever meet in real life. For all she knew, he could be a creep and a pervert, yet she just had this feeling inside that told her something about him was special, different. 

When the clock struck ten, she sat on her bed and clicked on the button that would start the livestream. Her heart jumped when she saw he was already there. A few seconds passed, as she stood frozen in front of the camera, then the sound of coins erupted from her speakers. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69 just donated $200_

Chloe didn't even ask if he wanted a private session. She opened it up immediately and logged off the public one. Excitement streamed through her veins.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: What am I going to do with you?_

She laughed, biting her bottom lip. The real question was, she realized, what was _she_ going to do with him?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Wow, I wasn't expecting so much support and love for my work, I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am for it. I genuinely hope you'll enjoy this chapter too. They're starting to get to know each other better, and they might finally meet at some point during next chapter so you should definitely stick around for it ;)
> 
> Also, another of our beloved characters finally joins the story.
> 
> As usual, please know English is not my native language, so there might be typos and errors. Be kind with me! Comments are greatly appreciated.  
> Chapter four will be up Sunday. See you then x

Lucifer was tormented by the image of her naked, beautiful body. He tried not to think about it, but every time he closed his eyes there she was, as if the sight had been permanently burned on his retinas.   
It was all his fault.

Trying to get Cherry Jane out of his mind once and for all, he had decided to spend the entire night downstairs at Lux. He drank, and danced, and flirted with so many people he lost count, but when ten o'clock had rolled around, the thought of her simply wouldn't leave him alone. So he partied harder, even scoring a quickie in the ladies' restroom, only to inevitably end up back in his penthouse to check on her broadcast.

There she was, in her almost naked glory, and he nearly lost it. She had chosen a different wig — forgoing the usual red for a jet black one — but everything else had been just as he remembered. As he watched her take off her bra, lowering it slowly and seductively, he thought about how much he wanted to be the one doing it. He wondered how her skin felt like underneath her hands, if it was as silk-like and flawless as it looked. What did it taste like? Red fruits came to his mind, maybe cherries like her name suggested, or was it something sweeter? Honey, perhaps? 

Comments flooded in, telling her how beautiful she was, making remarks about her perky tits and the things they would do with them. Lucifer couldn't bring himself to take part in it. He watched silently, breath catching in his throat as desire spread like wildfire throughout his entire being. He felt himself get hard, and a small part of his brain told him he should have been ashamed of it, even though that wasn't something he could fully control. What had become of him? 

He was not one to condemn any kind of sexual act or fantasy, and voyeurism was definitely not the vilest of kinks, but witnessing her getting undressed while people spoke about her body as if it was an object made him feel sick. What was even worse was how he couldn't stop himself from getting aroused, too.

Yet he could not tear his eyes away from her figure, especially when she lowered her hands on her body, getting rid of the last piece of fabric covering her. Cherry Jane was completely exposed, but he could tell she felt powerful and in control. Her eyes shone with a devious light he liked way too much. 

When she said there would be a special stream the next day, he already knew he would be there. There was simply no use in trying to deny himself of a thing he craved with so much intensity. Every time he had told himself to stop, he had ended up right back into it. Maybe it was best to finally give in. Had his philosophy not always been to never deny himself of what he desired, after all?

Most of Saturday went by in a blur. As Mazikeen told him about some new liquor supplier for Lux, he spaced out, eyes fixed on the amber liquid swirling in his glass. The sound of seconds ticking by seemed to be accompanying him anywhere he went, a constant reminder about the time that separated him from the girl. 

"Hey! Are you even listening?" Maze's voice broke his trance, and when he came back to reality she was snapping two fingers in front of his face. 

"Yes, of course I am," he simply answered. 

Maze shot him a skeptical glance. "And what was I talking about?"

"Alcohol and suppliers," was his short reply. 

"That was at least ten minutes ago," she scoffed loudly, getting around the bar counter to face him. "Seriously, what the hell is going on with you?"

"Listen, this managerial stuff bores me, that's why I have you do it, Maze," Lucifer shrugged. He wasn't exactly lying, since he really did find the non-partying portion of his nightclub mind-numbingly tedious. 

"You're barely even here anymore. And when you are, you disappear before eleven like some sort of pre-adolescent Cinderella. At least the girl would wait till midnight," the demon pointed out.

"Even the Devil needs some time to recharge."

"That's bullshit. When we first came here, the parties never stopped. We went weeks without sleep, every night a different orgy," she reminded him. "What is happening to you?"

"Nothing is happening to me, and even if it were, it would not be any of your business." Anger was beginning to seethe under his skin, like molten lava burning whatever it found on its path. 

There were disappointment and a hint of pity in Maze's expression. "Humanity is making you weak, Lucifer."

Just like that, rage burst out of him. "I'll show you weak if you don't stop disrespecting me, Mazikeen!" He shouted, eyes flashing bright red. The glass in his palm cracked, protesting against the tight grip of his hand.

She smiled. "See? He's still there, the King of Hell, dangerous and deadly." One hand went to caress his cheek, fingers running on his short stubble. 

"What you fail to remember is that I'm not King of Hell anymore. That part of me is in the past, Maze. You should let it go, too," he said, slapping her hand out of the way. He drank the rest of his whiskey in the cracked glass, and when he put it down on the counter with a little too much force, it broke entirely. "Clean up this mess," was the last thing he told her, before walking away and towards the elevator.

He could feel her eyes burning a hole in the back of his neck, but he didn't care. Although he usually treated her as equal, he would not tolerate her defiance. She was still a demon, a soulless being created to serve him, and even though he saw her as a friend that did not give her the right to make a scene and fuss about his personal matters.

Lucifer spent the remaining hours in his penthouse, trying to distract himself by playing the piano. The simple act of letting his fingers glide upon the keys relaxed him, made him feel peaceful. Briefly, he wondered what kind of music Cherry Jane liked, discarding the thought a second later. Thinking about her brought a sensation whit it he didn't like. He felt something heavy pressing on his chest, throat closing as his mouth went dry. It was not a pleasant experience at all. Did humans ever feel that way about one another? And what did it mean, if they ever did? It was a feeling he did not recognize but sure as Hell could not be good. Who would ever want to feel like they were drowning when thinking about someone else? 

When the time came, his laptop was already open, its only tab displaying an empty streaming service. There was no way he would be spending the brief broadcast amongst other users. He intended to be there first, so he could get her all for himself. 

When Cherry Jane finally popped up on the screen, they seemed to be staring into each other's eyes. She couldn't see him, but it felt like she was looking directly at him. Lucifer didn't type anything out, simply tipping her the usual two-hundred dollars, and it surprised him how she didn't even blink while she opened the private stream, no questions asked. They seemed to be on the same page about it.

Her red wig had made its comeback, paired with the usual mask that made her eyes a stark shade of blue. Her outfit hugged her snuggly, the soft curves of her body accentuated by it. She was seductive in an effortless way. 

His fingers trembled slightly as he typed out his first sentence. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: What am I going to do with you?_

A smile broke on her face, nude-colored lips stretching wide. "I don't know. What would you like to do?" She asked.

Lucifer didn't know, and that was the biggest problem. He was used to being the one in control, knowing exactly what he desired — what every single person desired — and how to achieve it, but _this_... It felt different, and it confused him.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: You're back to the red wig._

He decided to change the topic completely, not being able to find the right answer to her question.

"I assume you didn't like the black one," she said, getting more comfortable on her bed. She placed one hand on the mattress, folding her legs beside her, the free hand stroking up and down her exposed thigh. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: It doesn't suit you that well._   
_PrinceOfDarkness69: This red one doesn't either, but it looks a little better._

"I'll pretend you didn't just insult my choice of hair color," was her response, a jokingly tone in her voice. "What do you think would suit me, then?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: A light brunette. Or blonde, perhaps._

He knew he was onto something the second she jerked a little, eyelids blinking somewhat too rapidly. "What makes you say that?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Your eyebrows._

Unconsciously, her hand went up to her forehead, her index finger drawing the line of one ashy tinted brow. She shook her head.

"Well, nice catch, Sherlock."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: The Devil's in the details._

Cherry Jane's eyes lit up with amusement as they skimmed over his line of text. "Right, I almost forgot about your _being the Devil_ thing," she chuckled, low and sincere.

Talking with her came easily, an effortless back and forth that made his face hurt with how much he was grinning. 

"Could you describe yourself? I mean, you see me all the time but I don't see you, I'd like to have a general idea about who I'm talking to," the girl said seemingly out of nowhere. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: You were the one saying you don't allow new customers to show themselves._

"And I intend to keep it that way," she shrugged. "Just humor me, will you?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Sure._   
_PrinceOfDarkness69: I am 6ft 3, muscular, with curly brown hair. I usually style it though, because it tends to get messy._   
_PrinceOfDarkness69: I have brown eyes, most of the time. Textbook definition of tall, dark, and handsome, if I do say so myself._

Her expression gave away slight disbelief. "I'd say you're more the definition of a self-centered prick, but you do you," was her snarky reply. "No horns then?" She added, almost as an afterthought. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: What's with you humans and horns? That is a common misconception, but no, I do not have horns._

"You take this very seriously, don't you?" Her laughter broke out from the laptop's speakers, making it impossible for him not to chuckle in return.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: You would take it seriously too if you had been the center of false accusations throughout history._

She seemed to ponder that for a while. "I guess, who knows. But anyway, you described yourself as handsome... How do I know you're not lying?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I never, ever, lie. It's a point of pride for me._   
_PrinceOfDarkness69: And besides, I could show you, if you let me._

"Maybe one day, we'll have to see," she simply stated, noncommittally. "So, uh... Do you just want to talk today or should I... I don't know, do something for you?" Her tone seemed weirdly strained as if the act of getting those words out was costing her a great deal. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Would you feel more at ease if I asked you to take your clothes off?_

She sported a shy smile on her face. "Well, this isn't really about me, is it?"

He shook his head, and for a moment he wished she could see him. Of course, it was about her. Truthfully, he understood why she was saying those things. Men paid her to watch as she did things for them, and although she had rules, it wasn't exactly her choice what she would perform for them. They gave her money to fulfill their fantasies or at least some of them. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I'm more than okay with chatting, but I can't deny I do like your body._

Lucifer swore he saw her cheeks turn a lovely shade of pink. "I'm assuming you did enjoy my little gift, then."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I cannot say I didn't._

There was no use in pretending he hadn't enjoyed the view, although he had not been the only one to benefit from it. Not that he was jealous. He didn't fool himself enough to think he could demand some kind of claim over her. She was free to show off her body and use it however she liked and he respected her for it. But a maybe not so small part of him wished he had been the only one to relish on that sight. 

"I'm glad you did." Cherry Jane said, and he knew she was telling the truth. "But then again, why don't you ask me to do something else for you? I'm quite good."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I'm sure you are._

And in all honesty, he could have asked her to take off her tight little skirt, he could have told her to spread her legs wide and let him watch as she pleasured herself. If he had wanted to, he could have paid her so that she would moan his name as she came around her own fingers, but he did not want to. Not now, not like that. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: But you see, I think this should be mutually beneficial. Right now you wouldn't do it because you want to, but because I'm paying you to do it._   
_PrinceOfDarkness69: If you ever feel like you truly want to, like you desire it for real, I'll gladly let you show me more._

He watched as she opened and closed her mouth a few times, confused and slightly flustered. Her thighs seemed to rub together, but perhaps he was imagining it. "You're really weird," she concluded, shaking her head slowly.

Lucifer smiled as he typed out his next response. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I'll take that as a compliment._

"It is, in a way," she replied.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Why don't you tell me something about yourself?_

Her expression changed completely, her relaxed face turning into a frown. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: It doesn't have to be personal, I remember your rules. You can omit as many details as you please._

Cherry Jane seemed to weight her decision, uncertain. Anonymity was probably very important, and he wasn't about to force anything out of her. Still, he felt the urgency to know more, to know her better.

"My favorite dessert is lemon bars," she said.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Is that honestly the first thing that came to your mind?_

She shook her head, laughing. "Yeah. You took me by surprise, I didn't know what to say. Let me think," she murmured, pressing a long digit to her full lips. Then her eyes lit up. "I wasn't supposed to be born," she blurted out, so fast he wasn't sure he had understood correctly. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I beg your pardon?_

She grimaced. "I said I was not supposed to be born," the girl told him again, this time slower. "My father used to tell me that when he and my mother got married, they couldn't wait to have a baby. They tried for years, sought the best medical aid possible, but each and every month without exception the pregnancy test would come out negative. Doctors told my mother she had a 'hostile uterus'; gave her close to zero chances at a successful pregnancy."

He stared at her as she spoke, drinking in every word. Her voice felt soothing, a melody only he could understand and appreciate. 

"They were about to give up when she started having morning sickness, and for the first time, the test was positive. Nine months later, there I was," she used both her hands to gesture down her body. "My dad used to call me his _miracle baby_ ," she concluded.

For a few moments, he was stunned out of words. Was it possible? Could she actually be the result of a real miracle? That seemed absurd. His Father never took interest in human lives, let alone the way they reproduced. Then again, he hadn't believed his Father capable of throwing him out of the Silver City, condemning him to an eternal exile, and he had been wrong about that.  
It didn't make sense though. She was just a human girl who came from a normal human family. He was reading way too much into it.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Well, I'm glad you are here._

"Me too," she nodded.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Your father must care about you a great deal._

Her shoulders slumped down as if something heavy was weighing her down. "Uh... He died a few years ago, but I guess he did care about me a lot. My mother too, although we have very different views about life and careers. At least she's still alive," she shrugged almost casually, but Lucifer could tell he had struck a nerve.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I'm sorry for your loss._

She waved a hand in dismissal. "What about your family?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Haven't spoken to them in a few billion years, really. You know, me being the family disappointment and all._

His answer seemed to pique her interest. "And why is that?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I rebelled against my dear old Dad and got kicked out._   
_PrinceOfDarkness69: I guess He thought making me ruler of Hell was his idea of a life sentence, but I escaped._

A timid smile formed on her mouth. "I still don't understand if this is a metaphor or a very elaborate story you like to tell people," was her earnest reply. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: You will never believe me, will you?_

"I'm sorry, but I already told you I don't believe in this biblical stuff."

If only she had any idea who she was talking to. But making a believer out of her was not on his priorities list.

She casually glanced around, probably thinking about what to say next, when her eyes widened almost theatrically. "Shit, it's eleven. It's already been an hour."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Right, I'm sorry._

Lucifer wrote his response down before donating another two-hundred dollars. They had both lost track of time, but hers had a cost.

"No! Really, you don't have to, it's my fault. I kept on talking and asking questions. I feel bad excepting all this money, I haven't done anything to deserve it." She genuinely seemed mortified, but there was absolutely no reason for it.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: You did everything I asked you to. This is your job and I respect it._

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it," she said, and the cutest blush appeared on her ivory skin. "I guess I'll sign off now, then."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Sure. Bye, then._

"Wait!" She half shouted, lifting one hand in front of the camera. "I, uh, I was thinking we could schedule a private session for next week. I do it for my regulars, so they don't have to wait in the public livestream. I mean, that's only if you'd like that." The slight tremble in her voice gave away the uncertainty she must have been feeling.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I'd like that, actually. Does Monday at ten work for you?_

"Yes. Yes, it does." She smiled a genuine, contagious grin. "I'll see you on Monday, then. Have a good night, King of Hell," she winked jokingly. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Goodnight, Miracle._

And with a burst of tinkling laughter, she ended their stream. Lucifer watched the blank screen for a few moments, still unable to comprehend everything that had just unfolded. One thing was certain, he was already in too deep and had absolutely no idea about how to get out of it.   
And the honest truth was, he didn't want to get out of it at all.

* * *

A beam of sunlight shining directly in his face awoke Lucifer the next morning.   
He had spent the rest of the night alone in his penthouse, drinking till he felt tired enough to crash on his king-size bed and fall asleep. He was contemplating rolling over and simply spending the rest of the day in bed when he heard a noise. It sounded vaguely like metal gliding on stone, which could only mean one thing: Maze was there, probably sharpening her hell-forged knives. 

Groaning loudly, he threw a pillow over his head. Could she at least try to leave him alone? He wanted to ignore her, hoping she would somehow get the message and go away, but he knew better than that. When Maze wanted something, she hunted it down until it was hers. That came in handy when in Hell, but now he started to see the downside of her ability and stubbornness. 

Accepting there was no use in delaying the inevitable, he got up and put on his red silk robe, tying the waistband into a knot. When he reached the bar, the first thing he did was pour himself a glass of whiskey. He could see her from the corner of his eye, sitting with her legs crossed in the spot where he had been last night. Mazikeen possessed the kind of beauty that some would define otherworldly, but he recognized for what it truly was: deadly and destructive. She looked exactly like her mother Lilith down to the very last detail but lacked a soul, which made her dangerous and unpredictable. Those were great qualities in a demon while in Hell, but he couldn't say the same thing when it came to her presence on Earth. Not to mention, she tended to take her job as his _bodyguard_ — so to speak — way too seriously. Barely anything could hurt him, one of those things being the knives she was now examining with a little too much concentration. 

When she realized he was not going to acknowledge her presence, Maze was the one to speak. "I could track her down for you if you want."

Lucifer shot her a confused glance from the rim of his glass. 

"Cherry Jane," she simply said.

He almost choked on the liquor and went into a coughing fit, gasping for air. When he finally calmed down, he rasped, "how in the bloody hell do you know that name?"

She shook her head almost pitifully. "You should learn how to clean your browsing history," she deadpanned, nodding towards the laptop now placed on the crystal table in front of the couch. 

"You went through my laptop?" If he had been holding a grudge against her before, now he wanted her head on a silver plate. 

"It's not my fault you leave all your belongings unprotected. You don't even have a password," she shrugged, nonchalantly. "And even if you did, I'd probably be able to guess it."

"How many times do I have to remind you that what I do with my life if none of your goddamn business?" His voice now higher several octaves, he was almost shouting.

Maze got up from the couch, walking in long, steady strokes towards him. "And how many times do I have to tell you I will always protect you, even if you don't want me to?"

"I don't need your protection, Mazikeen! I'm very capable of taking care of myself," he growled, low and feral. "Besides, that girl is just a human, she can hardly pose as a threat." He pointed out, almost matter-of-factly. 

She looked baffled, as if she couldn't believe her ears. "So what now, you were tired of actual, real-life sex and decided to give online hookers a shot?"

All it took was one simple sentence for him to see red. He grabbed her by the throat, his palm and fingers closing in on her windpipe. "She's a cam girl, not a hooker." The calmness in his tone was almost scarier than his fury.

"Same difference," Maze wheezed out, a triumphant smile spreading on her red-tinted mouth. 

He pushed on her throat a little harder and let got, making her fall on the pavement. "I'll only tell you once more, stop interfering. Next time I might decide to snap your pretty neck in two," he warned her.

"I meant it," she croaked, massaging her throat slowly, "when I said I could help you find her. I'm good at it. You could see her in the flesh, maybe this weird obsession of yours would stop."

He turned his back to her, pouring himself another glass of amber liquid. "Leave, before I change my mind about letting you live."

She scrambled to her feet, trusty blades on either side of her, then finally walked out of the living room and into the elevator. 

In a way, he knew that was Mazikeen's twisted way of showing him loyalty and affection, but he did not appreciate or need it. It had been a long time since anyone had decided for him, and he intended to not let it happen again. Lucifer had given everything up for his free will. No one would take that away from him.

Sunday was dull and boring, and he felt like he had nothing to look forward to. His mood was still sour because of the early morning shenanigans, so when nighttime rolled around and he still was annoyed out of his mind, he decided to distract himself by going downstairs to the nightclub. 

The room was jam-packed with people, some dancing and bouncing up and down to the beat of the music, others chatting in small groups in their boots or near the bar. Maze shot him an angry look which he ignored and proceeded to walk towards the piano. The DJ stopped the music, knowing that when he sat on the stool, it was his time to shine.

He took a deep breath and then began singing his rendition of _Sinnerman_ by Nina Simone. That was one of his favorite pieces of all time. He enjoyed the crescendo of the music, the way he felt it like a wave building higher and higher inside of him until it became a tsunami that took hold of him completely. He was raptured, eyes closed as he sang, but he could sense the people staring at him in awe and he basked in that sensation. So what if he was a narcissist? Humans were attracted to him, and who was he to deny them of what they truly desired?

When he was done, thunderous applause followed, and a few women approached to compliment him. That was his natural habit, the den of sin he had always wanted for himself. So why wasn't he interested in spending time there anymore, all of a sudden? What was changing? A part of him realized Maze was right, he was indeed different, but he would never admit it to her. And in all honesty, he had no idea what the reason behind it was. The human girl couldn't be it, that would be ludicrous. He had met and been with countless humans throughout time, in various places of the world, but they hadn't changed him at all. 

As he approached the bar to get himself a drink, someone bumped into his back. He felt some cold liquid run down his pant leg, a reddish stain forming on his grey tailor-made suit. 

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" An evidently tipsy, blonde woman called out. She seemed to be in her early thirties and was incredibly short even in her stiletto heels.

Lucifer waved a hand dismissively. "Don't worry, darling. Nothing a run to the dry-clean won't fix," he reassured her.

"No, please, let me help," she insisted, picking up a few napkins from the counter to try and soak up the excess liquid. 

"Seriously, there's no need," he tried, but looking at her face he understood why she was being so nice to him. 

If there was one thing Lucifer knew for certain, it was that human eyes never lied. They did that quite often with their mouths, but their eyes always spoke the truth. That woman had the exact same look he had seen countless times in men and women when they saw him; lust, burning desire for him.   
Her hand on his thigh was a bit too languid, stroking up and down as she tried to get rid of the stain. 

"I heard you sing, and wow! You're so..." She struggled to keep her focus on what she was trying to say, her eyes traveling along his body. "So good," she concluded, swallowing. "Are you a performer?"

"I'm the owner of the place. Lucifer, Lucifer Morningstar," he introduced himself with the usual charming smile plastered on his face. 

The woman looked dazzled. "Such a handsome devil," she chuckled, biting her bottom lip.

"Indeed," he grinned cheekily. "Let me get you another drink, love. What were you drinking?"

"A cosmopolitan, but please you don't have to. I just ruined your suit."

"It really isn't a big deal," he said, gesturing to the bartender, who took their orders. 

"I should have been paying more attention, but it's my party and I tend to get a little wild when I drink," she admitted, adjusting her tight-fitting, navy longuette dress.

"Bachelorette?" Lucifer asked.

She snorted. "What? No, my gosh no! I'm celebrating the opening of my therapy studio. I'm a doctor in psychology," the blonde explained. 

"Oh really? Pretty and smart, I see."

She blushed, rummaging in her clutch bag to find something. She extracted a business card and gave it to him, smiling dreamily. The card had the name Dr. Linda Martin written in bold font on it, with her contacts and the address of her office. 

"In case you ever need it."

The Devil going to therapy? That was something so outlandish, he couldn't help but laugh. 

"Would you like to keep our conversation going in my penthouse? It's just upstairs, the view from my balcony is breathtaking," he murmured, leaning into her.

He watched as her eyes scanned the dancefloor, probably looking for the people she had been spending the night with, but he knew she wouldn't refuse. 

"Sure. I'd love to," she replied. 

Lucifer offered her his arm, and she linked her own to it. "I'll lead the way," he said, walking towards the elevator. 

They both knew exactly where their night was heading, and although the image of Cherry Jane kept tormenting him, he wouldn't stop.  
That was the only kind of therapy he needed. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Hope you're having a great weekend. As usual, thanks for your incredible support. I would have never imagined such overwhelming positivity and curiosity for this story.
> 
> Anyway, brace yourselves for some good old smut in this chapter. Also, our favorite pairing might end up bumping into each other at some point ;)
> 
> Please keep in mind the chapter is un-betad and English isn't my first language, so forgive me for any error I might have overlooked.  
> Hope you enjoy. I'll see you on Friday x

Chloe wasn't exactly sure about how much time she had spent trying to imagine how the mystery guy behind PrinceOfDarkness69 looked like before she finally fell asleep.  
If what he had said was true, he was taller than her, muscular, and good looking. Sure, it could have all been a lie, like the very elaborate story he told about being the Devil. There was a simple way of knowing if he looked just like he said he did, but she wasn't sure she was ready to take that risk.

The real problem was the fact she enjoyed talking to him more than she should have. So actually seeing him could only go one of two ways: if he indeed was handsome and charming as he seemed, she would probably end up liking him all the more; if he did not look anything like he said, she'd feel betrayed and lose the little hope she had in a guy that didn't talk to her just to see her naked.   
Finding out how good-looking he was didn't seem worth the trouble. 

And yet, Chloe couldn't keep him out of her mind for more than a few hours. As Sunday went by lazily, her thoughts kept on slipping more and more towards him, reliving their conversations and the way she had felt while talking to him.

He hadn't asked to see her naked but had made a comment about liking her body. Apparently, he was attracted to her but did not want to act on it, because it couldn't be _mutually beneficial_ or something along those lines. Most of her customers didn't care about her; although a few did ask about her day and spent a little time talking about mundane things, they all ended up asking her to get naked, to touch herself, to talk dirty, and do things she didn't even dare repeat. They got off on it, and that was all that mattered to them. Apparently, he didn't want that, and it confused her but was also kind of intriguing. 

In the evening, as Ella and Chloe watched some old tv show reruns with a big bowl of popcorn between them, she had noticed her roommate shooting glances at her. Chloe had spent most of the day in silence, not really engaging in conversation, so lost in her own internal war she had not realized how distant she must have looked.   
Ella was her best friend; however, she didn't feel comfortable enough sharing what seemed like a little secret between her and PrinceOfDarkness69. At least not yet.

"So, I met a guy at the gym," Ella declared out of the blue, turning down the volume of the television. 

Chloe twisted her head just enough to face her. "Oh? I don't think you've ever mentioned him before."

The brunette shrugged. "I only talked to him a couple of times, but he seems very cute and nice enough, always very polite," she said. "And oh, he's in Police Academy."

"Cute? Polite? You're making this dude sound like a lost puppy."

Ella rolled her eyes theatrically. "What I'm trying to say is, he seems like a nice guy," she concluded, grabbing some popcorn from the bowl between them.

"He doesn't sound like your usual type," Chloe pointed out.

"Well, that's because he's not for me, I don't like him _that_ way." Suddenly looking guilty, Ella munched on the popcorn.

Sighing, Chloe whined, "please, tell me you're not trying to set me up with someone."

"Why not? You've been single for a while, you said you're not seeing anyone — even though I still believe you're hiding something from me — and it wouldn't hurt to put yourself out there, you know," Ella stated.

Chloe knew her friend had the best intentions, but she could sometimes end up being a little too involved in her love life. "I appreciate it, but I don't want to date right now. Besides, this... what's his name?" She asked.

"Daniel, but everyone calls him Dan."

"Well, this Dan doesn't sound like someone I'd be interested in," she admitted. 

"I thought you'd say that," Ella pursed her lips. "You and I are cursed, amiga. We're always attracted to the bad boys."

"I guess we are," she nodded in agreement. 

"And that's kind of the reason why I wanted to talk to you about Dan. You see, he always comes to the gym with this super buff, tattooed guy, who's like prime eye candy." Wiggling her eyebrows suggestively, Ella continued, "so I might have told Dan I would arrange a double date if he convinced his friend to go out with me."

"Ella! I can't believe you would sell me out like that, and for a guy? Shame on you!"

She did look ashamed, and Chloe immediately felt bad about yelling at her. "I know it should be _hoes before bros_ , but damn is that guy a snack. I'd eat him up like abuelita's eggplant burrito."

"Ew, so gross," Chloe gagged, making the other girl go into a fit of laughter. 

"You owe me, Decker, remember? I wanted to have a girls' night out and you canceled on me, so now you can't wiggle your way out of this," Ella reminded her.

"And I told you we would go out, but I never agreed to a double date."Ella gave her puppy eyes, and Chloe pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes in exasperation. "Oh for fuck's sake, fine. Arrange this double date."

"Aw, mi amor, you're the best friend in the entire world." Squealing, Ella launched on her, wrapping her arms around her neck in a tight embrace. The bowl between the two slipped and fell, spilling popcorn all over the living room carpet. 

Chloe had absolutely no intention of dating anyone, especially that guy Dan. She would go on that date for Ella's sake only, then let him down as nicely as possible. She simply wasn't available on so many levels, and dating seemed like such a meaningless effort at that moment.

"Speaking of bad boys, you haven't heard from Jed lately, have you?" Ella asked once she'd backed up from their hug enough to look at her in the eyes. 

"Jed?" Chloe echoed, confused. "Why are you bringing him up now?"

"It's just... You seem distracted lately, like you're somewhere else entirely, and I remember you being like that in the weeks before you two broke up," the girl shrugged. 

Chloe shook her head. "Jed has absolutely nothing to do with this. We weren't compatible. And need I remind you _I_ was the one dumping him?"

Jed Moore had been her first serious boyfriend, or at least so she had thought at the time. In reality, they were both enamored with the idea of love itself, more than each other. When she had decided the entertainment carrier was not the right one for her, her relationship with him had died soon after. She had to sever ties with that world completely, and that included Jed.  
He had been the one to give her the nickname Cherry Jane, and although she had never found the courage to admit it to him, it had always sounded like a hooker's name to her. So while trying to choose her screen name for the streaming site, it had seemed like the most fitting one. 

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure," concluded Ella. 

Chloe had a feeling the topic of her strange behavior wasn't dismissed entirely, but her roommate would leave it alone at least for now. 

* * *

The next day Ella informed her she had successfully arranged a date with Dan and his friend Jake, and it was supposed to be on Tuesday. Chloe had protested at first, since it usually was one of her streaming days, but had been shut down by her friend entirely.

"You have a session today, _and_ also had one on a Saturday. Neither are your workdays, so you'll just have to skip this one. You promised, Chloe," she said, and that seemed to close the argument entirely.

If she decided to be completely honest with herself, she had been a bad friend to Ella, lately. Not that she did it on purpose, but she did end up neglecting their friendship most of the time in favor of her job or studies. Ella seemed to be way better at balancing the various aspects of her life, successfully excelling at university while maintaining a job and a resemblance to a social life. She didn't seem to need to choose, while Chloe constantly felt like she was struggling to keep up with everything. So she didn't protest and accepted her faith for the following night. 

That morning, as she listened to a Criminal Investigations lecture, she found herself spacing out and thinking about her upcoming private session with _him_. Calling PrinceOfDarkness69 by that ludicrous name felt weird now, but she did not know his name yet and couldn't find a better way to refer to him. 

Would he ask her to do something this time? Should she try to dress more provocatively, in hopes he would eventually end up telling her to do more than just talk? Most importantly, why did she want him to? Never in her time as a cam girl she had wanted one of her clients to actually ask for sexual stuff. Not having to do those things was usually a relief, yet it wasn't with him.

Maybe he was too much of a gentleman and would wait for her to make the first move. Then again, he had found her on a livestream site, so how much of a gentleman could he really be? Was that a tactic to get something from her? She had too many questions and zero answers. 

"Would you come shopping with me after class?" Chloe asked Ella on their lunch break, as they both ate a very stale sandwich from the vending machine. 

"Sure, what are we shopping for?"

She pondered her next answer. "Just some lingerie... and possibly a sex toy."

Ella's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Did you change your mind about giving Dan a shot?" She asked.

"Uh, no," Chloe shook her head. "It's for a customer, actually."

The brunette's enthusiasm deflated. "Isn't the lingerie you already have good enough?"

"I don't know. I mean, I guess, but he asked for something new to see and gave me a bunch of money for it so..." That was a blatant lie, but she couldn't find a good enough excuse for wanting to buy that stuff without telling her the whole story. 

It didn't escape Chloe the way Ella was looking at her inquisitively, but she decided to feign ignorance.

"I'll go with you if you promise me you'll answer truthfully to my next question," Ella said, throwing the sandwich wrapper into a nearby trash can. "I'll promise not to ask for details, but be honest with me. Do you like this guy?"

Chloe swallowed hard, feeling like a trapped mouse. Ella was her best friend and the girl knew her way too much, so she should have realized sooner her attempts at keeping the truth for herself would be pointless. "I do. I mean, I think I do. I barely know him," she sighed. 

Ella patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. "Do you think he likes you?"

"Maybe? I mean he only ever wants to talk, he never asks for sexual stuff. He's nice and interesting; he said something about doing things only if I was the one to actually want them to happen."

"Well, do you want them to happen? Do you want to seduce him?" Ella asked.

"Yes. Fuck, yes I do," was the only response Chloe could give.

Ella smiled at her, squeezing her shoulder. "Then let's go shopping, babe."

  
Once again, her geeky friend ended up being the freakiest of the two. She helped Chloe pick a very cute underwear set — something she was absolutely sure would have made any man with a functioning libido drool — and a little technologic toy she had the feeling would come in handy. Seeing how much Ella was willing to help her out without knowing most of the story shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. Her kindness and generosity never ceased to amaze Chloe. She could have never wished for a better friend and was so grateful for her presence in her life. Sometimes she felt like their friendship was a little one-sided if she was completely honest. Soon enough, she promised herself, she would make up for it in some way.

When dinner time came around, her stomach was clenched tight and she couldn't eat a single thing. Her nerves were getting the best of her, making her feel incredibly self-conscious. She started to rethink her entire plan, taking it apart piece by piece.  
What if he didn't like her lingerie? What if he simply did not want to see her naked? What would she do then? It was all ridiculous. _She_ felt ridiculous, trying to seduce a guy she had never seen and probably never would. 

And yet there she was, her reflection staring right back at her from the full-length mirror in her room. Ella had chosen for her the skimpiest, most obscene piece of underwear she had ever seen, yet it looked strangely elegant and sophisticated. Everything was made in black, very sheer lace, with various straps that crisscrossed over her breasts and stomach, and from the top of the bra, her nipples were clearly visible. The g-string was incredibly tiny, a small triangle of fabric ending between her legs, and she had a pair of stockings attached to a garter belt. 

There was no going back now. Ten o'clock arrived almost in the blink of an eye, and she found herself setting everything up for her stream as her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. Why was she acting like she hadn't done that before?   
Once everything was ready, she adjusted her usual wig and mask on herself and got into the private room. He was already there, waiting for her. Positioning herself so that as much of her body as possible was into view, she turned on the livestream. 

Seconds ticked by, in which neither dared do or say anything. She didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign until a message popped up in the chat. 

_PrinceOfDarkness69: I wasn't expecting that._  
_PrinceOfDarkness69: Well, good evening, Miracle._

A smile broke on her face, and she tried to hide it by biting her bottom lip, which had been tinted red for the occasion. 

"Hey there. I hope you like my outfit," she said, lifting herself up on her knees to show the outfit a little better.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: You look positively ravishing._

"Why don't you tell me with your voice?" She asked, her voice as sweet and thick as honey. "Turn on your microphone."

He didn't answer, and for a second there she thought that had been the wrong move. What if he wasn't ready? What if he was insecure about his voice? Then, from her speakers, words resonated through her room.

"Uh, can you hear me?" Came a low, masculine voice. He sounded American but in an almost too calculated way. She couldn't help but think the way he rolled his R was a little forced, unnatural. 

"I can," she smiled. "Nice to finally hear you, my King," Chloe added in a mocking tone.

"No one has called me that in a long time," he chuckled, his laughter a soft rumble that made goosebumps erupt on her skin.

"Would you like me to keep calling you King?"

"If that is what you want, Miracle," he simply replied. 

That weird nickname he had decided to give her sounded so good when it rolled off his tongue. She shivered, and her underwear dampened with arousal. 

"I don't usually do this for my clients," she admitted, gesturing toward her barely covered body, "but I want to do it for you, and for me too. Please, let me do this. I can show you just how good I can be." There was a hint of desperation in her voice. The words came out strained as her thighs clasped together. 

"How could I say no to you?" He replied in a hushed tone.

Chloe smiled, then licked her lips. "What should I take off first? Guide me, pretend my hands are yours," she told him.

"Take off your bra," he answered. 

She did as she was told, reaching with both her hands the front of the bra where the clasp stood. Undoing it, she opened it up and slid it over her arms, letting it fall on the bed. 

"Cup your tits with your hands, weight them with your palms. How do they feel?"

Gliding her fingers along her ribcage, she found her breasts and took them in her hands, sighing softly. "They're soft and firm," she murmured, then pinched her nipples through thumb and index. "They're very sensitive."

"Hell, you're beautiful," he groaned, his voice coming out chocked. 

"Are you dressed?" Chloe asked.

"Yes," he said, and she could hear the sheer confusion in his voice. "Why?"

She looked straight into the camera as though it were his eyes, and she breathed, "take it out of your pants. Touch yourself. I'm for sure gonna do it."

From his side, she heard a sharp intake of air and some rusting, taking if for a sign he was doing exactly what she told him. 

"Take your panties off, but keep the garter," he said. 

"As you wish, my King," she murmured, and got rid of her g-string as asked, which followed the bra.

"You're a little insolent, do you know that?"

"And you like it."

"Way more than I should," was his answer, and somehow she knew he meant it. 

A strange sense of confidence, almost pride, was starting to spread inside Chloe's chest. She could hear in his voice and the way he spoke just how much she was affecting him. He seemed to have the same power over her, but she didn't mind anymore. On the contrary, she enjoyed this little game between them, relished on the uncertainty that kept her on her toes. 

She sat back down on the mattress, sustaining herself on the heels of her hands, legs crossed at the knees so that he still couldn't see between them. 

"I've got something for you," she informed him, reaching under her pillow to extract something. "This little toy," she said while showing him the pink silicone vibrator, "works remotely. If you download the app on your phone, you can control it. What do you think about it?"

As the silence stretched between them, Chloe examined the toy once again. Ella had been the one to suggest that specific model that consisted of an egg-shaped external vibrator, and a smaller g-spot stimulator connected to the first one by a flexible cord. "This will give you orgasms so strong you'll see the entire galaxy. It'll drive him crazy, mark my words," Ella had said, and she certainly hoped it was the truth. 

"Where do I get the app?" He asked after a few seconds, and a victorious smirk stretched on her face.

She typed the information in the chat, giving him the specific code for her vibrator. "Let me know when you're done," she then said.

A few seconds passed, excitement making her heart beat against her ribcage. That was a different kind of nervousness from the one she had been experiencing before the beginning of their stream. She felt thrilled at the idea of what was about to happen, aroused and expectant.   
A bluish light turned on inside the toy and she knew it meant his phone was now connected to it. 

"How do you suggest we proceed now?" He asked.

Chloe turned around to grab some water-based lube from her nightstand, pouring a few drops onto her fingers. She spread her legs wide in front of the camera, making sure she was completely exposed before rubbing the lube first on her clit, then between her already slick folds. It wasn't necessary, seeing how wet she had been since the start, but it helped to put on a show for him. Slowly, she dipped one finger inside of her and felt herself clenching around it, her head rolling backward as she sighed languidly. 

Ragged breathing came from the laptop's speakers, and she almost sensed his eyes on her body. She imagined he was in her room, watching as she played with herself while he did the same, the both of them feeding on the sensations the sight of the other procured.   
Then, spreading some more of the lube on the sex toy, she inserted the smaller vibrator inside of her, eyes fixed on the lens of her camera. 

"You have full control over this. You can change the speed, the type of vibration, with a simple touch on your screen," she told him, her tone lascivious. "That also means you get to chose when and if I can come."

"So you want me to make you come?" He asked, and she simply nodded her head yes. "Why?"

Chloe scoffed, rolling her eyes just a little. "Do you always ask so many questions when someone decides to give you a gift?"

He chuckled, probably realizing how silly he sounded. "No," he concurred.

"I thought so. Then turn the damn thing on and shout your mouth," she demanded, winking playfully. 

And he did just that, dropping every argument as the low buzzing of the toy filled the room. A moan erupted from within her chest, the sudden stimulation making her legs shake ever so slightly. When the vibration intensified she almost squealed, squeezing her thighs together as to try and control the overwhelming pleasure arising like a tidal wave. Ella had been right, of course. That small piece of technology was indeed powerful and very intense. 

"Open your legs up, Miracle," she heard him say, as her vision blurred and her eyelids grew heavy with lust.

Chloe obliged, still trying to support herself with her palms on the bed. Her own arousal had started trickling down, soaking up the sheets underneath her butt, but she couldn't care less about it. She was already so close, as she thrust her hips into the air at the rhythm the vibrator dictated. 

"Please, yes, like that," she cried out, one of her hands slipping between her parted thighs to press more firmly on the egg-shaped toy pulsing on her clit. 

Then, as suddenly as the vibration had started, it ceased, the object stilling inside of her. She couldn't help but groan, eyes shooting open to glare at the point where the camera was.

"What are you doing?" She protested, feeling her pending orgasm slowly recede. 

"You said I got to choose when you could come, and I think it's not the time for it just yet," he answered sardonically. 

She shook her head. "So smug about it, aren't you?"

"Very much so," he replied, and a second later the buzzing resumed.

It was extremely slow at first, then got a little harder and faster, before it subsided once again, creating a kind of waving pattern. Her hand went to cup her right breast, kneading it with the palm, as pleasure increased once again. It got to the point where she was begging for it, desperate for release that wouldn't come, and once again the vibration stopped completely.   
When he turned it back on, she realized what kind of game he was playing, and decided she had to win at it.

"Are you touching yourself?" She asked, and when a shuddering breath broke the silence, she took it as a yes. "I bet my hand would feel way better wrapped around your cock, don't you think?" Her voice was sweet but assertive, bold even. 

The vibration increased, reaching the highest point so far. She suffocated a sob, trying to concentrate on her next words. 

"My mouth would probably feel even better. You'd like to fill it up, wouldn't you?" Chloe heard him cry out and smirked. "Answer me." 

"Yes," was his strangled reply, audibly strained.

"No one would be as good as I am, I can assure you that. I'd let you fuck my mouth until you came, suck every last drop out of you."

"Bloody hell, yes," he said, and weirdly enough she noticed the hint of a British accent. 

It didn't matter. Not now, when the buzzing had become so intense and relentless her legs were shaking uncontrollably, her orgasm building up in increasingly bigger waves. She almost couldn't breathe, the magnitude of her pleasure making it almost impossible to think straight. But she wouldn't budge, she would be the one to get the upper hand.

"I know you are close, I can feel it. Come for me, my King," she purred softly, and a low growl echoed inside her bedroom as he surely tumbled into his orgasm. 

Chloe was right behind him, crashing on the bed as her own release hit her hard, making her scream incoherent words, her back arching off the mattress. Stars shone behind her closed eyelids, bursting like tiny luminous bubbles. When the vibration became too much, overstimulating her already sensitive sex, she found the button that would shut the toy down manually and pressed it.   
She simply lay there for a while, panting. His unsteady breathing echoed hers while they tried to recover from the whole experience. 

Without the hint of a doubt, she could swear nothing as powerful and gratifying had ever occurred between her and another client. Masturbation was fairly frequent, but she never felt satisfied after it. Yet there she was, wanting it to happen again and again because that had definitely been one of the best orgasms in her entire life. 

She took the toy out of her and put it on her nightstand, giving herself a mental note to wash it before she went to sleep.  
When she felt a little calmer, she tried to lift herself back up, arms wobbling slightly as she still felt unsteady. "Are you still there?" 

"Where else would I be?" He replied, his voice back to a smooth tone. 

She broke into a smile. "So, did you enjoy it?" She asked him, and the tiniest bit of uncertainty colored her voice.

"Very, very much. You indeed are a miracle," he said with a burst of low, hearty laughter. "Be honest with me, did someone send you to destroy me?"

"Destroying the Devil? That sounds like a difficult task," she joked.

"I used to think so, too," he replied, his words full of meaning she wasn't sure she could understand. "Wait, I forgot your tip at the beginning of our session, let me do it now," he added as an afterthought.

"No!" It almost came out like a shout, as she straightened herself and gestured with her hands. "Please, don't. I wanted to do this, you didn't ask for it. Besides, you paid more than you should have last time, so I guess that makes us even. At least for now."

How could she even begin to explain that the thought of receiving money for what they had just done would make the whole experience feel _cheap_? It barely made any sense in her mind, and she was sure it would sound insane if said aloud. 

"This is your job," he argued. "I would never take advantage of you like that."

Why the hell did her chest swell at the sound of those words? "If anything I was the one taking advantage of you. It's fine, really, you'll just have to see me again if you want to keep financing my studies," she shrugged. 

"So you are a student. I thought so."

She hadn't even fully registered the phrase that had come out of her mouth, but it was too late to back out of it now. "Yes. Aren't most cam girls?" She jokingly replied. "Uh, so... do you want to schedule another private session?"

"Would tomorrow be too soon?" The way he sounded eager to see her again almost knocked the wind out of her lungs. Damn, she was screwed. 

"No, it would be perf-" Chloe stopped dead in her tracks, slapping one hand to her forehead. "Actually, yes, I've got a previous engagement," she said in an apologetic tone.

All of a sudden, she remembered being naked except for the garters holding the stockings up. A strange self-consciousness overcame her, and she almost felt ashamed about still being so exposed. Reaching behind her, she grabbed one of her fluffy pillows and threw it on herself, keeping it in place with her arms wrapped tightly around it. 

"You don't seem too happy about that," he noted. 

Where her emotions so easily deciphered? "I... Well, my roommate is practically forcing me to go on a double date. I mean, she's my best friend, I kinda owe it to her," she shrugged.

"Planning on showing that guy this pretty outfit?"

She scrunched up her nose. "Are you jealous?" 

"You answered with another question," he quipped, playful but somehow serious. 

"And you didn't answer mine," she retorted, "but no, I have never seen him before and I'm not interested in dating anyone. I'm basically going as my friend's wing-woman." Not that she owed him an explanation, in all honesty. 

"Okay," he simply said.

"Great," she murmured. She crossed her legs, still holding the pillow over herself.

"Can I see you on Wednesday, then? Unless you have to do a public livestream."

In reality, that was exactly what her schedule usually consisted of, but she realized at once how much she didn't feel like it anymore. Her private sessions with him paid more than enough, and if they ever stopped she could still go back to the public ones. It wasn't like she was doing it for him, right? 

"Wednesday is fine. Does usual time work for you?"

"Yes," he replied. "Have fun on your date, Miracle. Not too much, though. Have a good night," he concluded, speaking the last few words in a very sweet tone.

"I'll be a good girl... but think of me tomorrow, especially when you're in bed. Goodnight, King" she waved at him and heard his distinct laughter a few seconds before ending the stream. 

She was so incredibly screwed. 

* * *

"Jake and Dan will be here in about twenty. Are you ready?" Ella called out from the living room, as Chloe touched up her makeup.

Tuesday was usually a boring day, and that one made absolutely no exception. She found herself yawning through most of her classes, if she wasn't reliving the call with PrinceOfDarkness69 on a loop and blushing furiously. Ella had caught onto it pretty quickly, shooting her meaningful glances that made her face burn even harder. Would their stream the next day end up in the same way? A part of her hoped so. It had been so exciting and she couldn't wait for more.

After their lectures, Ella had literally never stopped blabbing about their impending date and how great it was to finally be able to live the college girls' lifestyle. She had been adamant about going to the club she had mentioned to Chloe a few days prior, which also meant dressing accordingly for that kind of place.

Most of their afternoon and evening had been spent doing facials, scrubs, shaving, and every other activity in the book to be squeaky clean and ready for the night out.   
Chloe had decided to leave her hair down; soft, blonde curls framed her face, ending just above her breasts. She had gone for a winged eyeliner, some of it smoked out on her lower lash line, and a generous coat of volumizing mascara. Her plump lips were now tinted in a matte burgundy color, almost the same shade of her heart-shaped mini dress that cinched at the waist and flared out below it. Black stiletto heels finished the look, and she couldn't help but smile at the sight in the mirror.

For a fraction of a second, she wished he could have seen her dressed like that. But theirs was not a relationship, they didn't text each other, or send pictures, nor went on dates. It was an arrangement, and they would keep it up as long as it was mutually beneficial. No strings attached.   
And yet, her thoughts still strayed to him more than she wanted to.

"I'm almost done," Chloe said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She put some essentials in her black clutch bag, sprayed some perfume on herself, and got out of her room.

"Ay Dios mío, qué bonita," exclaimed Ella, clapping her hands excitedly. "I might just dump Jake and jump your bones instead."

Chloe shook her head. "Right back at you," she said, eyes the brunette in her little black dress, cut out in strategic points, hair gathered to fall onto one shoulder. 

A message notification chimed from Ella's phone, and she looked it up. "They're here early. Let's go."

Taking a deep breath, she followed her out of the apartment to the car waiting for them on the side of the road. They both climbed into the backseat, and Chloe closed the door once inside the vehicle.   
One of the two guys had a shaved head, many tattoos visible from the rolled-up sleeves of his too-tight shirt, and gave off a very strong bad boy vibe. The other seemed buff but not excessively so, a full head of hair and a nice, clean guy kind of look. Distinguishing which one Ella was intended in was not that hard. 

"Hey, ladies," greeted then the one she assumed to be Jake. 

"Hi, I'm Daniel, nice to meet you," the other said, turning around to extend his hand. 

She took it in hers, giving it a shake. "I'm Chloe."

"You look beautiful," he commented. "Both of you, of course," then added, smiling. 

Chloe understood perfectly what Ella had meant when she had called him _cute_. He was good looking, in a very non-intimidating manner, so much so that he ended up feeling too plain.   
_Or maybe_ , a small voice in her brain suggested, _you're just trying to find something wrong with the guy because you are adamant about not liking him_.

Either way, she wasn't interested and wouldn't pretend to be. The sole reason she had agreed to that night out in the first place was to make Ella happy, and her friend knew perfectly well she would not pursue any kind of real interaction with Dan.

The group spent the drive to downtown L.A. in a relatively nice conversation, talking about what each did for a living and simply indulging in small talk. Chloe lied, of course, saying she was in between jobs and was momentarily unemployed. She noticed the way Ella shot her a sympathetic look but didn't say anything about it.  
It took them almost an hour to get to their destination, and when they finally got there and parked the car, Chloe knew Ella had been right. Lux was a very popular club apparently, given the small line at the entrance even during a weeknight. If the place was this frequented on a Tuesday, she could only imagine it would be packed on the weekends. 

The four of them got in line, and before they even realized the bouncer had let them in. The inside seemed spacious, luxurious but not exaggeratedly in-your-face. As she descended the stairs that led to the bottom level, she noticed some booths and wooden tables, a dancefloor, and the bar. The lights shone purple and yellow, casting a mysterious hue on everything. Some patrons were scattered around, talking and drinking at ease. 

What caught her attention was the piano situated at the center of the club. In her mind, a grand-piano had no business being in a nightclub, but it somehow blended perfectly with its surroundings. No one was playing it though, the music coming from a DJ console. 

"Let's get something to drink," Ella nudged her and pointed at the bar, where two bartenders stood.

She couldn't help but notice one of them, a dark-skinned woman dressed in a black leather top, giving off an incredibly intimidating vibe. Stunningly beautiful and deadly, that was what Chloe's first instinct told about her.   
For that exact reason, she walked towards the other barman, a way friendlier looking guy. 

"A strawberry margarita, please," she said, leaning on the counter with a courteous smile on the face.

"Make it two," Ella added, and the guys gave their orders, too.

She glanced briefly at the barwoman, finding her staring right back at her as she cleaned a glass. Chloe immediately averted her eyes, but could still feel the dark stare on herself. Yeah, she definitely was scary.

"What's the piano for?" She heard Ella ask the bartender as he made their drinks. 

"The owner likes to play from time to time. He's really good," the guy answered. 

"Oh, yeah? That must be so cool," Ella commented. "Is he here tonight?"

"Mr. Morningstar spends most nights here. I think I saw him a few minutes ago, he's probably around."

The brunette nodded. "Right. He has, like, a weird name, uh?"

"I guess. Lucifer Morningstar isn't exactly common," he shrugged and passed the two ladies their drinks, then set on making the boys' order. 

"Lucifer Morningstar?" Chloe quipped, suffocating a giggle on the rim of her glass. "Is that a stage name or something?"

"God-given, I'm afraid," came a voice from behind her, low and strangely familiar, in a smooth British accent. 

Chloe immediately turned around and the first thing her eyes met was a broad chest, covered in a plum-colored shirt and dark grey waistcoat. Her gaze traveled up, a sharp jaw coated with stubble and a long nose making their appearance as she finally took his entire face in. Their eyes met, and somehow she thought they had met before, she just didn't know where. One thing was sure; the man was freakishly good-looking.   
She felt her cheeks heat up under his stare.

"And you are?" He asked, extending an incredibly big hand.

It took her a second to register the question and finally give him her own hand. "Chloe, I'm Chloe Decker," she replied, shaking his hand.

He smiled at her and she did the same, having no idea how much such a simple gesture would forever change her life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! So here it is, the moment we've all been waiting for: Chloe and Lucifer's fist encounter in the real world. I genuinely hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it.  
> My publishing schedule might change a little because I have a little less time on my hands, but I'll try to keep the usual five days apart rule I've been trying to follow, I'll just post at a later time (which honestly doesn't matter because of time zones).
> 
> I want to dedicate this chapter to Miriam and her endless crusade against Lucifer's (and all celestial's really) belly button. I hope you'll like this little homage to you. 
> 
> As usual please forgive any mistake or typo, you know the drill by now. And please leave a comment, I really appreciate your support!  
> See you soon x

Lucifer almost couldn't believe his own eyes.

Cherry Jane stood right there before him, in the flesh, smiling as they shook hands. There was not a single doubt in his mind that blonde, lean girl was the one who had been fuelling his fantasies the past couple of days. He had recognized her voice the second she had spoken, his full name rolling off her tongue with a muffled laugh.   
When she had turned, he had stared at the same piercing blue irises he had seen peering at him from his laptop screen. The only difference was the one in front of him wasn't wearing a red wig and lace mask, so he could finally look at her without filters.

She was, for lack of better words, beautiful. He always knew that, but he could really appreciate it now. High cheekbones and a small, straight nose were now visible without the impediment of the mask, her razor-sharp jaw even more prominent in real life. She had a perfectly round, tiny mole just under her right eye that only accentuated her beauty.  
The dark, ashy blonde of her long, wavy hair suited her way better than the fake color of the wig he usually saw her wearing. 

Hours seemed to pass as their fingers wrapped around each other's palms, and he knew there was a connection between them that went beyond comprehension. He had been able to feel it through the screen, but it was even more evident as he touched her. Who was she? What was so special about her? 

"Uh, Chlo? Are you coming with us?" The girl next to her asked, touching her shoulder. 

She jumped slightly, startled. It seemed evident she had been as lost in the moment as he had felt. "Oh! Yes, I'm coming," she nodded and begrudgingly tore her eyes away from him. "Sorry, I gotta go. It was nice meeting you," she smiled, taking her hand off of his. 

Lucifer watched as she strode off, following her friends to a booth nearby, hips swaying under her short dress.  
Was she living in Los Angeles, too? That seemed like the only explanation. Had they been this close all along, without realizing it? That was one hell of a coincidence.

He signaled the bartender to pour him the usual, and soon after he stood at the bar as he drank in silence.  
A few women approached him but his mind was elsewhere. He swore he could feel her presence, could hear her laughter even under the blaring music as she conversed with her friends and enjoyed her night. The need to talk to her felt almost unbearable. They were finally so close, yet he still couldn't touch her, and he thought that was incredibly unfair. 

Nevertheless, he couldn't stop himself from glancing towards her every once in a while. Cherry Jane — _no, Chloe Decker_ , he reminded himself — sat between her female friend and a douchy looking bloke, now attempting to strike up a conversation with her. She appeared to be smiling politely, leaning away from him as he got closer to her, probably using the loud music as an excuse to get nearer.   
_Good girl_ , he thought, smiling absent-mindedly at the scene.

"What are you so smug about?" Maze's voice interrupted his internal debate.

He turned to face her, wiping the smile off his face. "Nothing in particular. Can't I enjoy a good whiskey in my own club?"

"So, you were smiling at the liquor, uh?" She asked, the brow with her signature slit arching as she looked at him.

He simply shrugged, noncommittal. 

Maze scoffed. "I guess the cute blonde has nothing to do with your sudden good mood, then."

"You know me, Maze, I do like to indulge in a pretty view when I see one," he replied. 

"The pretty view is walking towards you," Maze informed him, getting back to her duty behind the bar. 

His attention returning to Chloe, he watched as she moved in her high heels with grace, almost raptured by her beauty. Just when he thought she was about to stop near him, she kept on walking, reaching the bartender on the opposite side. 

"Two strawberry margaritas, please," she said with a small smile, putting one elbow on the counter as she waited. 

Lucifer weighted the idea of telling her his true identity in his mind. That would have probably been the wrong move, considering how adamant she was about keeping her own identity as secret as possible. The idea of not talking to her the whole night thought, while she was so close he could smell her sweet perfume, drove him crazy. Maybe if he played his cards right, he would get to see her again and explain her little secret was more than safe with him, but that was not the time nor the place. 

So he got a little closer, and their shoulders were almost brushing against each other when she turned around and dropped one of the glasses, started. 

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," she apologized, bending down to try and scoop up the pieces of broken glass.

"No, please, let me do it. You'll hurt yourself," he warned her, kneeling on the floor to take the shards in his hands and place them on the countertop, so the barman could clean it all up. 

"I didn't expect you to be there," Chloe admitted, a slight pinkish tint blossoming on her cheeks visible even in the purplish hue of the nightclub lights. "You kind of startled me," she concluded, straightening back to her full height. 

"I gathered as much. Please, make another cocktail for the lady, it's on the house," he gestured to the bartender who simply nodded.

"No, you don't have to! I'm so sorry," she said, biting her bottom lip.

He waved a hand dismissively. "Please, it's a pleasure. What would be the point in being a club owner if I couldn't benefit from its perks?"

The hint of a smile formed on her full lips, then her eyes widened. "You're bleeding," she murmured, blinking rapidly. "Of course you're bleeding."

It took Lucifer a moment to realize she was still talking to him. After all, _he didn't bleed_. Then his eyes fell on the hand he had used to scoop up the broken glass and there it was, crimson red liquid dripping from a cut in his palm. In utter shock, he stared at his hand, then right back at her. She was grabbing some napkins, before taking his hand gently in hers and blotting the cut to soak up the blood. 

It all felt surreal. He hadn't even perceived the sharp sting in his palm until she had pointed out what had happened to him. But it wasn't possible, was it? He was a celestial creature, the Devil himself, there was no way some insignificant glass could hurt him. Yet, that was exactly what had just happened, and he couldn't wrap his head around it.

"I'm bleeding," he uttered, almost in awe.

"I can see that," she replied, still trying to clean up his hand. "You shouldn't have picked up the broken glass like that."

He shook his head. "But I don't bleed."

Her gaze lifted, meeting his eyes as her brows furrowed. "We all bleed," she said, and he decided not to contradict her further. She seemed to examine the laceration in his hand for a few seconds, moving his palm between her hands. "It doesn't look deep, but you might need a stitch," she said.

Lucifer didn't say anything. He vaguely registered her ask the bartender for a first aid kit, from which she extracted some antiseptic and a piece of gauze. She proceeded to disinfect the cut, and he hissed at the sudden burning sensation. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could swear he had heard her mutter something along the lines of "such a child" under her breath. When his palm was clean and the wound wasn't really bleeding anymore, she covered it with the gauze and wrapped a bandage around it to keep it firmly in place.

"There, all set," she said with an apologetic smile. "And I'm sorry, really."

He finally shook himself out of his trance. "Don't worry, this is not your fault."

"I feel like it is," Chloe shrugged her shoulders. "I'd better get going before my friend comes looking for me," and with that, she began to walk away.

Unable to refrain himself, Lucifer grabbed her by the elbow when she was still within reach, making her turn around. "Can I ask you something?" A little confused, Chloe nodded, and he leaned in closer to her. Their eyes locked just as he asked, "what do you truly desire?"

He had not exactly meant to ask her that question, but it had seemed to be the only thing inside his mind at that moment. She was a mystery he intended to unravel. What a better way to do so than with his mojo?

Her pupils dilated as she stared up at him, her full lips slightly parted. Then the hint of a frown contorted her features. "Is that a pick-up line? Because let me tell you, it's a weird one," she said with a mocking tone. "I really should go," she added, resuming her stride towards the booth.

"What are you?" He whispered to himself, watching her as she sat back down with her friend and then examined his bandaged hand.

There was no Hell-forged glass as long as he was aware, and they surely would not use it to drink cocktails from if such a thing were to exist. Was Maze right? Could his stay on Earth actually affect him to the point of becoming weaker? Admittedly, he was not as powerful on Earth as he was down in Hell. He could control the place, bend it to his will, create powerful illusions, and many more things; other than that, he felt exactly the same. Then again, he had bled. There was no denying it. He could still fill the stinging in his palm, the bandage wrapped a little too tightly.

And if he could now bleed, did it mean he was mortal? That was impossible, though. Celestials were immortal.   
Not to mention the fact she had been completely immune to his charms. That had never happened before in his entire existence. Was it possible she had some kind of power, too? Was she even human at all?  
He had way too many questions and absolutely no answer. 

Lucifer had thought about playing the piano that night, a part of him hoping to impress her, but with his hand in such a state that was out of the question.   
His eyes skimmed over the nightclub. It was a very quiet night, as weekdays usually were. Not many people were in the club, most of them simply drinking and chatting peacefully with one another. Even though he tried with all his might not to look in her direction, his eyes ended up on her table, but she was not there anymore.  
A deep frown appeared on his face. Had she left already?

"Hey," someone behind him said, tapping on his shoulder.

When he turned, he realized the girl standing there was the one who had been with Chloe all night long. He was almost sure she was the roommate they had briefly talked about during their previous session.

"I see the way you look at my friend, but she's seeing someone else," she informed him, her speech the tiniest bit slurred. Judging by the glassy-eyed stare she was giving him, he could tell she was at least tipsy.

"Oh, is she now?" He asked, his interest suddenly piqued.

"Yes. Well, I mean not exactly but she likes a guy."

He nodded towards their table. "That douche who has been trying to get up close and personal with her the whole time?" Lucifer scoffed, eyebrows raised. 

"Uh?" She turned around, following his gaze. "Oh! No, not Dan, she's not interested in him. Not that this is any of your business. You know, people talk about you," she jabbed a finger at his chest. 

"And what do they say?"

"They say you are a manwhore," she said, whispering the last word as though it was a secret or a bad word, "and that you tell everyone you are the Devil," she concluded.

Lucifer simply nodded. "I guess that would be mostly correct." 

"Do you honestly believe you are the Devil?" The girl rolled her eyes at him.

"I don't believe it, Miss..."

"Ella Lopez," she promptly finished for him.

"Well, I do not believe it, Miss Lopez. _I know_ I am the Devil," he finished his sentence matter-of-factly. 

"Well, there's only one way to find out." Ella got closer, all up in his personal space, then took his shirt from the point it was tucked in his pants and yanked at it, successfully lifting it up.

"What the hell are you doing?" He stumbled backward, hitting the counter behind him.

"Getting my proof. You, my dear Mister Morningstar, are a liar," she declared, almost triumphantly.

"I do not lie. Ever."

Ella scrutinized him, brows arched in complete skepticism. "You have a belly button."

"And? What is your point exactly?" Trying to get his shirt back inside his suit trousers, he couldn't believe his ears.

"If you were the actual Devil you wouldn't have one," she shrugged. "The real Lucifer was once an angel, and well I highly doubt they were born from an actual womb so they must not have a belly button because they didn't have an umbilical cord."

For the first time in ages, he could say he had been stunned out of words, yet he couldn't help but laugh wholeheartedly. "This is the most insane thing I have ever heard in whole my life, and trust me it has been a long one. You do have a point though, I will give you that," he noted.

"Long life? You look like you're in your mid-thirties, tops," she tried to debate him, but someone else appeared on her side.

"Ella, what are you..." Chloe didn't finish her sentence, her eyes wandering between her drunk friends and Lucifer, still tucking his shirt into the trousers.

The brunette put one arm around her friend's shoulders. "Just telling Lucifer here to keep his eyes away from you."

"Ignore her, she's a lightweight," was Chloe's reply, while she tried to usher the other girl away.

"She is a very interesting character," he answered honestly. 

Ella laughed. "Chlo, he's got a belly button!"

"Wow, such vital information Ella, thank you very much," she shook her head and shot Lucifer an apologetic look as they walked back to their table. 

Had he and his dear Dad been on speaking terms, Lucifer could have asked why he had decided to create angels with navels on behalf of Miss Lopez, but that was not the case and probably never would be. 

  
The rest of the night went on uneventful. He did feel a little like a creep, watching her whenever he had the chance, but he didn't dare approach her again. Before he even realized, Chloe Decker had stood up, given him one last look, and walked out of Lux with her friends in tow. She probably had no idea about who he was, so he hadn't expected her to say goodbye or anything of the sort, but the way she was just gone without so much as a word had left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Downing one last generous measure of whiskey, he walked to the elevator and got up to his penthouse. He had already started to unbutton his vest, flinching at the slight pain in his hand, when the familiar sound of sliding doors caught his attention. 

"If you don't stop barging in, I swear I'm putting a lock on the bloody elevator," he said once he saw Maze, arms crossed on her chest as she leaned on the side of the apparatus. 

She took a few steps, crossing the threshold as the doors slid shut behind her back. "I saw what happened to your hand."

"Nice catch," Lucifer commented, not a single trace of humor in his voice.

"Can't you see how serious this is? You just bled, something is wrong!"

He sneered, shaking his head. "Two correct sentences in a row; you really are on a roll tonight, Mazikeen," he said.

"Sure, take it all out on me. Kill the messenger if you must, but at least _I_ understand the gravity of the situation."

Turning his back to her, he kept on undoing the button of his waistcoat, successfully sliding out of it alongside the jacket. He loosened the first few buttons of his shirt, then searched in the back pocket of his trousers for a packet of cigarettes. Once he found it, he extracted one and put it between his lips, opening up the zippo lighter. 

"I'm tired of repeating myself over and over, Maze," he said, cigarette dangling from his lips. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. Now go away, before I kick you out of here myself and have you shipped back to Hell."

She laughed. "And how exactly would you do that?" She asked him.

"Don't test me," he warned her, walking towards the balcony. 

"I made a promise, Lucifer. I said I would _always_ protect you, even when you couldn't see the danger," she stated as she walked back to the elevator. "I intend to keep that promise at any cost."

"I would like to see you try," he shrugged, and when she was finally gone he lit the cigarette and put the lighter back in his pocket.

He inhaled, the first drag filling his lungs up with heavy smoke. The pungent taste of tobacco spread on his tongue as he enjoyed the feeling of slight calmness that overcame him whenever he smoked. Cigarettes weren't like any other drug; those usually had the opposite effect, making him feel hyped up and over-energized, although they didn't work exactly like they would on human bodies. His supernatural metabolism made it very difficult for him to feel any effect at all, but cigarettes somehow made him more relaxed. He suspected there was something about the act of inhaling and exhaling smoke that had that effect, more than the object itself. 

When he was done, he put the bum out on the ashtray and got back inside. He slipped out of his last pieces of clothing, changing into some black satin pants with no shirt on.   
Right when he was about to sit on the bed and turn off the lamp, he noticed a small square of paper on his bedside table. Picking it up, he examined the writing on it. 

"Doctor Linda Martin, Therapist," he read aloud, turning the business card in his uninjured hand.

Maybe he did need someone to talk to, someone who wouldn't judge him and would just listen to his problems. Someone who could figure out why everything in him seemed to be changing irreparably. And who knew, maybe that person could be Linda Martin. 

* * *

Lucifer had woken up bright and early the next day, his mind set on going to the Doctor's office. 

While checking the bandage on his hand before taking a shower, he had realized the wound had healed completely, leaving the faintest hint of a scar in the middle of his palm. His fast healing abilities seemed to still be working, at least.  
After the shower, he had gotten ready, choosing a navy blue suit paired with a white shirt, and used the elevator to get to the garage level of the building. 

It was the perfect day to drive his Corvette. The sky was of a bright cerulean and crystal clear, not a single cloud in sight even in the middle of autumn. He liked the sensation of wind blowing through his hair — although he would then have to fix the wild mess it'd create — because it reminded him a little of flying, something he had renounced to once he had decided not to go back to Hell ever again. That didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a similar feeling. 

Doctor Linda Martin's office was in a suburban area of Los Angeles, surrounded by many other small businesses and houses that looked almost identical to one another. Once he found a parking spot, he got out of the car and into the building. Finding her office was not at all difficult; he knocked twice, waiting patiently while leaning with a shoulder on the door frame. 

Muffled footsteps came from the other side, and a few seconds later the door opened before him. "Lucifer, I... What are you doing here?" The Doctor asked, visibly confused. 

"Good morning, Doctor. If I remember correctly you said you would have loved to see me again," he said, dazzling smile in place.

"Well, yes, just... just not in my workplace," she explained, a little flustered.

"No need to worry, I'm here for business, not pleasure," he specified, then a sly expression formed on his face. "We could still arrange for the pleasure later," he added.

Her face flushed ever so slightly. "Uh, I mean, I guess..."

"I'm here to ask you for your expertise, Doctor. Do you have a moment for me?" He asked.

She finally seemed to register what was actually happening. Nodding slowly, she stepped out of the way to let him get inside. "Sure, please come in. Have a seat," she gestured towards the couch against the wall. 

The office looked small, minimalistic, with a wooden desk and a chair positioned to the opposite side of the couch. A few plants and some shelves filled with various ornaments completed the decor, a big window casting a great amount of light upon everything. 

Lucifer sat down, crossing his legs as he straightened his jacket. Linda was looking at him almost awestruck as if she couldn't believe he was actually the one sitting on the sofa in her studio; the same guy who had taken her up to his penthouse and rocked her world all night long. 

"So, what can I do for you?" She asked as she got to her chair, adjusting her pencil skirt in a nervous gesture. 

"I was wondering if you could help me with a series of... changes I have been experiencing lately," he replied almost casually, eyes fixed on the cufflink he was fidgeting with.

Linda nodded. "What kind of change?"

"You see, I have always been sexually prolific, so to speak. But lately, I have not been up to my game, and I can't understand why," Lucifer said, finally looking at her.

Her eyebrows shot up. "It seemed to me you were doing okay just a few nights ago," she commented. 

He made a face, expressing his disapproval. "I'm more of a several women per night kind of Devil. Or men. Or both," he specified, trying to get his point across.

"I had imagined that," she admitted, then cleared her throat. "Why do you think that is a problem? People normally experience some periods of higher sexual drive and some others of lower to sometimes no desire at all."

"Well, I'm not _people_ ," he debated, almost annoyed at the thought of being compared to simple humans. "I am always in the mood for a good shag."

"Except now you say you're not, so what has changed? When did you first notice this shift?"

Lucifer sighed. "I met a girl, I saw her online and we started talking. For some reason, I can't get her out of my mind," he admitted, more to himself than the Doctor in front of him. "And then, when I met her yesterday in real life, she made me bleed. Can you believe that?"

"Did she hurt you?" Linda asked, incredibly confused. 

"I mean, she didn't _actually_ make me bleed. She dropped a glass, so I picked up the broken pieces and cut myself on them," he tried to explain. 

"I guess that is completely normal," she pointed out.

Almost outraged, he exclaimed, "no it isn't! Not for me. I am the Devil, I do not bleed."

Linda visibly frowned, looking like she was at a loss for words. "Is this some kind of religious metaphor?"

"Of course not. I do not lie, ever, especially about my nature," he insisted. "I am the one and only Devil. Satan. Beelzebub. The last one is a personal favorite, actually," he added.

The Doctor wore a very skeptical expression on her face, yet she seemed to remain composed as she spoke, her hands folded on her lap. "How did that make you feel? If you're so not used to bleeding, what kind of emotions did that bring to you?" She asked him.

Lucifer seemed to ponder for a while, staring at a vague point behind her. "I almost didn't notice at first, then she told me and it hurt a little. I felt strangely... _vulnerable_ , like I was starting to lose my powers," he murmured. "She's not even affected by my charms."

His abilities had seemed to have stopped working all of a sudden and that was incredibly confusing. It all had seemed normal just a few nights before and the Doctor could attest to that. 

"Maybe she's simply not interested in you that way," she suggested.

Lucifer scoffed. "That's not possible. I bring out human's deepest, darkest desires. I mean, is this thing still on?"

"Oh," Linda swallowed visibly, straining in her seat, "it's very much on," she whispers languidly, then seemed to catch what she was doing and tried to recompose herself.

"See? It does work on you, so why would she be any different? I do not like being powerless."

"Feeling vulnerable is perfectly acceptable. We can either decide to see it as a good thing, meaning we are letting people in, having them see our true selves; or, we can see it as a weakness, a way for others to get to us, to hurt us," she tried to explain. "Are you afraid she will hurt you, Lucifer?"

"What? How could she? She's only human, she doesn't have power over me, it has to be something else," he replied.

"That is right. Unless she does have power over you, something you haven't realized yet," she suggested. 

He looked at her puzzled. "Do you mean she might not be human?" 

"No, that's not what-"

"That actually makes sense!" He exclaimed, almost jumping on the couch. "She must have been sent to destroy me. Maybe she does have powers, she could be an angel."

"Lucifer, this is definitely not what I-"

"Thank you, Doctor, I know exactly what to do now." He got up from the sofa, walking towards the door. "Please, do come see me at Lux, I will repay you well for your services," he winked at her, closing the door behind himself. 

Linda watched it all happen in complete shock. For a few seconds, she thought he was going to come back in and tell her it was all a prank, but that did not happen.

"What the hell just happened?" She asked at the empty room, receiving no answer.

* * *

Lucifer got back to the penthouse with a plan. He had to find out exactly who Chloe Decker was — if that was even her real name — and if she had any part in one of his Father's grand schemes to punish him once again. 

He thought he knew every single one of his siblings, but millennia had passed since the last time he had seen the Silver City and he couldn't be sure his Dad hadn't decided to expand the Heavenly Host. Although Lucifer had a Mother, he knew full well God's powers were more than good enough on their own; he didn't need someone else's help to create a new celestial creature. 

There was only one way to know for sure, even though he did not like it one bit. Trying to calm his nerves, he extracted a flask from the inner pocket of his jacket, taking a few swigs of its content. The alcohol burned pleasantly on his tongue, then down his throat. It was at times like this he wished the liquor would have the same effect it did on humans and make him at least the slightest bit tipsy, but he knew that wasn't an option.   
_Maybe not now_ , he thought, frowning to himself, _but I am getting weaker so that might happen, too_. That would have been the only bright side of losing his powers. 

Walking behind the counter, as if to put some distance between himself and the one about to arrive, he begrudgingly put his palms together in prayer and closed his eyes.   
He loathed praying. That was an act of submission and blind faith in a God that never listened to his own children, let alone human requests. It wasn't his Father he was trying to speak with, though, and that preferential line of communication came in handy every once in a while. He put all his effort and conviction into summoning the angel, and after a few seconds, the air around him shifted with a _swoosh_ that reminded him of his own wings.

When Lucifer opened his eyes, he found Amenadiel standing in the middle of his living room, greyish black wings in full display. They stared at each other for a few seconds, then Amenadiel rolled his shoulders, and the wings furled on themselves, disappearing behind his back. 

He examined the dark-skinned, bald man in his usual grey robe, one of the many signs of his allegiance to God. "Every time I hope someone in the Silver City has finally developed some sense of style, only to be promptly disappointed," he commented, smirking.

"Have you summoned me just to piss me off?" Amenadiel asked, almost impassively.

"Does Mom know you stole her dress?" Lucifer retaliated, ignoring his question completely. 

"It's a robe," the other specified, unable to contain himself, "but I guess you know more about Mother than I do since you two belong in the same place."

Lucifer scoffed. "I don't belong to any place, my dear brother. That is the beauty in free will. I do not follow orders blindly as you do," Lucifer argued back.

"Oh, Luci, my hatred for you grows stronger with every visit," he quipped back in an almost sweet tone, the mocking in it evident.

"Well, I wouldn't have it any other way, pal."

The angel seemed to grow impatient. "Did you call me here because you have come to your senses and finally decided to get back to Hell?" He asked. 

Lucifer spat out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. "Very funny. I am never going back, and you know full well you cannot make me," he reminded his brother. 

"You're only delaying the inevitable, Lucifer."

He waved the comment off dismissively. "That is not why I called you here, as I'm sure you have gathered. I wanted to ask you, is there some new angel I am not aware of?"

Amenadiel's eyebrows shot up, confusion and a hint of interest washing over his features. "Do you mean a sibling you haven't met before?" He inquired.

"Yes, that is what I mean. Has Father created someone I don't know about? Has he sent her here to trick me?"

"Her?" Amenadiel's shocked voice echoed in the space between them. "You are talking about someone specific, I see. Well, the answer is no. The Heavenly Host has been the exact same since the day you were cast out," he explained. "Why would you ever think one of our siblings was here?"

"Because..." Lucifer hesitated a bit, unsure. "Because I cut myself with some glass yesterday, and this girl was around. So I thought that maybe she had some kind of power, and if that was the case she must have been one of us."

"Do you know her?"

"Her name is Chloe Decker, or at least that's what she told me," he shrugged, grabbing a class and a bottle of whiskey from the bar. "But if she is not the reason, why am I getting this taste at mortality all of a sudden?"

Lucifer felt at a loss. The prospect of one of his siblings trying to seduce him to eventually attack him made his insides lurch in disgust, but at least he would have had an answer. He was left with no clue about what was happening to him, which only led to many more questions. 

"The name doesn't sound familiar. Although..." His eyes unfocused, Amenadiel seemed to be lost in thought for a second.

"What?" Lucifer asked impatiently.

The other seemed to bolt back to reality. "Nothing, I was just realizing this is actually great news for me. You see, if you are actually becoming mortal, I don't have to do anything to bring you back where you belong," he pointed out. "I simply have to way for you to make a stupid mistake that will get you killed and off to Hell you go," he concluded.

Clenching his jaw almost painfully, Lucifer shot his brother a glance so full of hatred it redefined the meaning of the saying _if looks could kill_.

"Forget I even asked for your help," he said, turning his back to the angel who wore a smug grin on his face. "Now go, before I decide to ask Maze to come here and bring her Hell-forged knives," he suggested in a tone that sounded alarmingly like a threat. 

Amenadiel scoffed. "I could easily take the both of you down. I am God's strongest warrior."

"I guess that must be the reason why you haven't dared touch me so far," he quipped with a loud huff. "Take my advice and leave, Amenadiel," he repeated.

"You will lose, Lucifer, no matter how much you fool yourself otherwise. You'll lose, just like you did in the Silver City," he said, and with the sound of batting wings, he was gone.

Lucifer regretted the decision of talking to his brother almost immediately. Not only their conversation had led to nothing helpful, but he was also now left feeling angry and frustrated. He was sick and tired of being treated with disrespect. Amenadiel, the loyal soldier his Father so loved, always looked down on him, mocked his every belief. In hindsight, he should have known his brother would have been of no help at all. 

What was he supposed to do with the beautiful woman who kept on worming her way into mind, invading his every thought? They had a session scheduled for later that night. He thought about canceling it, but of what use would that have been? Maybe it was all a coincidence and she really had nothing to do with him suddenly becoming vulnerable. Or she did, and Amenadiel had just blatantly lied to him. In both cases, he needed to investigate and find out more about her, and the only way he had of doing so was talking to her alter ego Cherry Jane. 

A thought crossed his mind and he grimaced, taking a large gulp of whiskey.   
That woman could _quite literally_ be the death of him. And with that idea in mind, he walked with the bottle of liquor in hand to the couch, where he intended to drink himself to a stupor, or at least try his very best. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm genuinely glad you enjoyed the previous chapter and how they finally met. Now... not everything can go as well as planned, right? As Deckerstar shippers we should know that. So don't hate me too much if we start getting on some rocky ground. It will be worth it, or at least I think so.
> 
> I'll spare you the usual "don't mind the errors" talk and just let you read the chapter. As usual I'd love to read your comments and critiques.  
> See you in five days x

A pair of eyes following her every move was what Chloe remembered the most about her night at Lux. 

She could somehow understand why Lucifer Morningstar had earned himself the reputation of a playboy. He was definitely too cocky for his own good, but charming and charismatic, not to mention hot as all hell. That was ironic, considered he was calling himself _Lucifer_. The idea that it was his real name still seemed a little far-fetched, but who was she to judge? Maybe his parents had been crazy enough to actually name their son after the Devil. Was that even legal? She thought not.

He had seemed oddly fascinated with her, and she couldn't deny the fact it was flattering in a way. Then again, Ella had told her he was a ladies' man, so she was sure he reserved that treatment to any girl he found attractive enough to get in bed with him. She wasn't exactly keen on sleeping with him, no matter how good-looking he was, so when they had decided to leave the nightclub and get back home, she had barely glanced at him on her way out. 

"Can you believe he stared at you the whole time?" Ella asked her, giggling like a schoolgirl. Alcohol had that effect on her, but thankfully she was still in possession of her mental faculties. 

She feigned indifference. "Yeah, what a creep," she replied, her cheeks blushing just slightly.

"I mean the dude calls himself the Devil! How crazy must he be?"

As the meaning behind her words sunk in, Chloe felt her stomach drop. That reminded her of someone else who referred to himself as the Devil. Was there a chance two people claimed that same bizarre identity at the same time? Could it all just be a coincidence? The world could be full of people who said they were someone else, for all she knew, but she wasn't foolish enough to think that was just a cosmic joke. 

"What did you say?" She blinked a few times, stunned and barely able to get the words out.

"He told me he is the real Devil, but I know better than that! Dude has a navel," Ella explained, tapping her temple with her index finger. 

Chloe looked at her in confusion. "You already said that, but I don't get how that proves anything." Not that she believed in that religious bullshit anyway. But her head was spinning, her heart pounding in her chest so furiously she could swear it would jump out any second now; she had to keep talking or she would break down.

"Well, angels should be almost an extension of God himself, which means they are _created_ , not _born_. So, no womb, no belly button," her friend shrugged. 

Chloe nodded but wasn't listening at all. She did not care about otherworldly creatures' anatomy. All she could think about was how she could have been so close to PrinceOfDarkness69 without even realizing it. She couldn't be completely sure about it, but that still posed a threat. If Lucifer Morningstar was the same person she had been talking to the past few days, her entire carrier plans could be in jeopardy. Her anonymity was at great risk. She had to do something, the sooner the better. 

"So... is it okay for you to take an Uber back home? Jake just invited me to his place," Ella said, her voice shaking Chloe away from her thoughts.

She looked at Ella attentively before answering. "Are you sure? You've had a few drinks."

"Aw, babe you're so sweet," the other girl launched into a hug, which she awkwardly returned. "I might be tipsy, but I know what I want. Plus, I have a mighty fine right hook if I ever change my mind and decide my lady parts are closed for business tonight," then added as a whisper, making Chloe chuckle. 

"Fine. Have fun," she said, and let go of her friend who walked to the car with Jake. 

"Do you want to split the Uber?" Dan asked, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. 

She looked uncertain but nodded. "Yes, sure. Why not," she agreed, fishing for her phone inside the purse and opening the app to book a ride. 

Dan tried to make small talk as they waited for the car to arrive and pick them up. Her answers were curt and disinterested, her mind wandering not too far away from where they stood. 

That was a complication she had not seen coming. How many chances were there for one of her customers to be living in the same area as her? She thought they were close to none, but apparently, she was wrong. In all honesty, she could have just decided to block him out of her streams just to be sure, but the truth was she didn't want to. Her head told her to be scared, while another significantly less reasonable organ told her to give PrinceOfDarkness69 a chance. 

When the car finally arrived, they spent the drive to her place in utter silence. Watching as buildings and houses passed by from the window, she found herself extremely tired, and when after what felt like an eternity she reached her destination, she barely said bye to Dan as she left. 

The only thing she found herself capable of doing was slipping off her shoes and dress, then crashing on her bed, makeup still on her face.   
In the complete darkness, she closed her eyes and hoped the night would bring her some much-needed newfound clarity. 

* * *

No sudden revelation came to her as she slept. The morning rolled around much too soon for her liking, waking her up with a splitting headache that made her wish she could spend the rest of the day in bed. 

Chloe did not have morning classes that day, much to her relief, so she took her time getting out of her bed and into the shower. The hot, steaming downpour helped relax her tense muscles, the stress almost melting off of her as the water rolled down her entire body. It made her feel instantly better, but the throbbing in her temples was still there. She knew it was a mix between a mild hangover and the restlessness she had felt throughout the night, making her toss and turn as she tried to sleep. Some Tylenol would help but in order to take that she needed to have breakfast first. 

Once out of the shower, she wrapped herself up in a big, soft towel and proceeded to take the remainings of her makeup off and blow-dry her hair. After that, she got back to her room and put on a pair of shorts and a comfy t-shirt. There was no other sound in the house except the ones she was making, so she assumed Ella had still not returned from her one-night stand at Jake's. Chloe briefly wondered if she should have tried harder to stop her friend from going to an almost stranger's house while tipsy, but she also knew Ella could take care of herself and was way more stubborn than she looked. Making her change her mind once settled wasn't an easy task. She could only hope everything was alright. 

She was making breakfast — which consisted of grilled cheese and scrambled eggs — when her roommate finally showed up. Ella was wearing the previous night's clothes, heels in her hand while she tried to silently sneak up to her room. 

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?" Chloe asked over the sound of sizzling eggs, making Ella stop dead in her tracks. "Is this the time to come home?"

The brunette shuddered. "You sounded just like my mother."

"That was the idea," chuckled Chloe. "Well, that is a walk of shame if I've ever seen one," she then added, tearing her attention from the kitchen to look at the girl in the doorway.

"We've all been there, but you can't deny I pull it off quite nicely."

She laughed. "Yeah, you do. Why were you even sneaking in? It's not like I'm _actually_ your mother."

"I thought you'd still be asleep," Ella shrugged. 

"So, how was your night? Don't spare the gory details."

"It was okay," the other girl replied, her tone anything but enthusiastic. 

"Oh?" Chloe asked, visibly confused. 

Ella rolled her eyes. "Turn out the guy is huge everywhere _except_ the one place that really counts."

She tried to stifle a laugh, unsuccessfully. "Aw, baby, I'm so sorry."

"I mean, he had some good tongue skills but not enough to make me want to see him ever again, you know."

Ella seemed to suddenly remember something, and Chloe watched as she walked to the kitchen table to place a yellow folder on it.

Her brows furrowed. "What is that?"

"I found it on our doorstep. It has your name on it," the girl replied, pointing at the inscription in black marker scribbled across the folder.

It looked distinctly like a Manila envelope, the kind people used to store documents in. She finished plating the scrambled eggs in two separate dishes and put a grilled cheese sandwich next to each one, before walking toward the table to examine the thing laying there. She put the plates down and took the folder in both hands, turning it around to check if there was a return address or any sort of indication about where that had come from. The yellow paper was blank, except for her name written in neat handwriting. 

She blinked a few times. "Well, this is weird," she stated, sitting down in front of a plate. 

"Do you think it's safe to open?" Ella asked, a worried expression on her face.

Chloe pondered that for a few seconds. "I have no idea. It looks like it contains documents, I doubt it's a bomb," she half-jokingly said. "But my head hurts and I'm starving, so breakfast first."

Ella nodded her approval. "Yes, it smells delicious."

They mostly ate in silence, interrupted only by the sound of chewing and the sparse comments Ella made about her lackluster night with Jake. By the time both their plates had been cleaned and her roommate had finally decided to take a shower and change her clothes, Chloe had almost forgotten about the envelope sitting on the table with her name written on it. 

She took a much-needed painkiller for her headache and put the dishes in the sink, vowing to clean them up as soon as she had figured what the hell was inside that folder. Lifting it up, she examined it closely. It wasn't too heavy, seemingly containing some documents. Why would anyone leave documents outside her door? Why not mail them properly? It was extremely suspicious, but her curiosity could only be satisfied by opening the yellow folder once and for all. 

And she did exactly that, tearing up the flap that had been glued shut. Turning it upside down, she let the contents of the envelope fall onto her hand. Chloe had been right, they were indeed documents. The LAPD seal was the first thing that met her eye. She skimmed through the pages trying to make sense of what was in front of her, finding photos of men she had never seen before, all of them looking like the textbook description of mobsters. Among them, she recognized the man who had been convicted for her father's murder. The whole thing had been declared a robbery gone wrong, but she was not convinced. 

Her heart was now pounding against her ribcage, threatening to get out at any moment. Who had sent her those files? She was sure it was illegal, yet a part of her was somehow glad to finally have something to start from in her quest for the truth. Reading each document and collecting information would for sure take some time, but that wouldn't stop her. If there was the tiniest chance she could find the real culprit, she'd take it. 

"So, what is that?"

Ella's voice made her jump in surprise, and she almost dropped the handful of papers she was holding. Her roommate had just gotten out of the shower and she was towel-drying her hair with one hand, head slightly tilted to the side. 

"Uh... it looks like LAPD files, and some other documents," she opted for the truth. "I think this is about my father."

Ella's eyes widened. "How did you get them? Chlo, are you in some kind of trouble?" She asked, sounding worried.

"I... I really don't know," Chloe admitted. "I wasn't looking for them, I haven't talked about this to anyone but you. This could be the first step in the right direction to find my dad's killer."

She watched Ella's expression fall with a sigh. "Chloe, he's already in prison."

Her lips thinned into a straight line. "You know what I think about all of this. Nothing adds up," she repeated for what felt like the millionth time, "it looks like a staging through and through."

"Listen," Ella said, lifting her hands almost in surrender, "I understand why you want to do this, but investigating on your own? It's crazy. Those are probably stolen documents. I'm just worried about you," she shrugged.

"For all I know, this could lead me nowhere, but you can't expect me to just sit on this information and to nothing about it."

The other girl sighed. "I know, I would expect nothing less from you," she murmured with a small smile. "Just please be careful."

Chloe nodded. "I promise."

She retreated to her room, where she made some space on her desk to be able to spread the documents on it. The rest of her morning was spent like that, reading each page until she almost knew them by heart, cross-checking every single detail, and examining the photos more times than she could count. It seemed like her father had been investigating a certain Perry Smith, a prison guard who appeared mixed up in some very shady affairs. Why was John Decker, a simple police officer, investigating something like that? Chloe knew how much he had wanted to become a detective one day and that meant he would have stopped at nothing to uncover the truth if he thought something was up, although that wasn't in his usual duties.   
If she had gathered the information right, the Russian Mob had some involvement in that story.

Leaning against the backrest of the chair, she raked her fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes briefly, wondering what kind of messed-up situation she would find her into if she kept on digging. Letting go was never an option for her. Chloe was her father's daughter, after all. He had stopped at nothing while investigating something he thought important and she couldn't help but do exactly the same. The only difference — although a very substantial one — was how she was not yet in the police department. She didn't have the resources nor the right equipment to handle such a complex situation. 

Ending up dead like her father wouldn't benefit anyone.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to stop researching and digging for more information. With a simple internet search, she found out that Perry Smith was no longer a prison guard. He was now a deputy warden in the same prison where Joe Fields, the man that had shot her dad during the robbery, was spending his sentence.  
Could it all just be a coincidence? If that was the case, whoever sent those files to her would have had no reason to do so. Something told her that couldn't be. She didn't know who, but someone out there wanted her to uncover the truth. 

That lead her to another, much more important question. Why her? Why was this person — possibly people — using _her_ instead of going to the police? Sure, she was well aware there might have been a case of corruption surrounding her father's death, but something just seemed off. Chloe was only a college student. Her life goal was becoming a detective, but she was as far from that as one could be. So many things did not add up, but instead of being scared it just made her more determined to solve the mystery. 

  
During classes, later that afternoon, she was anything but concentrated. Chloe kept on scribbling absent-mindedly on her notebook, the monotone sound of the professor's voice making her drift in and out of some kind of trance. Images of the past few weeks kept on flashing before her eyes. She saw her first online encounter with PrinceOfDarkness69, the way they had gotten so close in such a short time, and how it all might end just as abruptly if her suspicions about him were correct. She remembered Lucifer Morningstar, his strange behavior around her but that instant connection she was sure they both had felt. And then, bits of documents and pictures of shady men flooded her brain, making it almost impossible for her to think straight or even breathe. 

Chloe almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. 

"Are you alright? You're white as a ghost," Ella commented, evidently concerned, right after their last lecture for the day.

Heart pumping wildly in her chest, she nodded once. "Yes, I'm fine. Don't worry."

Ella did not buy it. "I would believe you if you didn't look like you were about to throw up," she insisted.

"I'm just tired, that's all," Chloe replied, pinching the bridge of her nose, then wiped her slightly clammy forehead. 

"I want to help, Chlo. You know I'm always here for you."

She got up from the chair, gathering her notebook and shoving it into her bag. "I know, Ella. I..." she sighed, "I'm just worried about exams and all."

"So this has nothing to do with the Manila envelope?" Her friend asked, entirely unconvinced.

"No. I'm still trying to figure out that whole ordeal," shrugged Chloe, moving to walk out of the lecture hall. 

She hated lying, especially to Ella, but if that meant keeping her safe and out of trouble she would gladly do so. Although she was sure her friend was not convinced in the slightest, the girl dropped the argument and didn't bring it up again on their way back home. 

Chloe decided at least one of her problems needed to be resolved. The easier one was probably finding out who PrinceOfDarkness69 was. All she had to do was ask him to finally show his face, and that could be done that night during their private session.   
She was not looking forward to it. There was a very small chance she was wrong about his identity, but her gut feeling told her otherwise and it rarely was mistaken. 

If she was wrong and he was not who she thought, things could simply go on as normal. They would keep on having private streams — if he wanted to, that was — and pretend she had not been suspicious about him at all. But what if she was indeed right? What then? There was a very small possibility he had not recognized her or her voice. That part of her life, _Cherry Jane_ and everything her alter ego brought with it, had to remain hidden. There was absolutely no way she could keep on having any kind of contact with him if he did know her true identity. 

Maybe she could bribe him into silence. No one would refuse money to simply forget about someone they barely knew, right? Then again, he was a club owner and a wealthy one at that if his expensive tailored suits and Italian shoes were any indications of his financial status. The way Lucifer Morningstar moved and spoke, everything about him screamed wealth and power. Chloe was not doing so bad herself, but she was simply a cam girl. 

Not that she had any reason to even think he would run his mouth about her double life. If their conversations had been real even in the slightest, he was a pretty decent guy. Her mind was running wild, creating disastrous scenarios that would most likely never happen.

The decision had been made though and there was no turning back now. She would ask him to show himself later that night and decide what to do right then. 

Ella ordered some pizza for the both of them at dinner. They barely talked, but Chloe could feel the preoccupied stare of her roommate follow her every move. She hated giving Ella reasons to be worried, but that situation was so much bigger than she could ever explain. Bringing her best friend into her problems seemed selfish and pointless, given the fact even she had no idea what that envelope could potentially lead to. She would not risk it, ever. 

When Ella offered to clean the few dishes they had used, Chloe thanked her and went into her room to get ready for the night. Her gaze briefly drifted to her desk, but she tried to ignore the multitude of files and photos scattered across the surface. 

Getting into the bathroom, she took a quick shower and after that put on some makeup. She opted for a simple outfit made of an off-the-shoulder top and light denim shorts. The usual wig and mask were her final touches.  
Chloe couldn't help but sigh as she looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. 

Cherry Jane was a means to an end, an escape from reality that happened to make pretty good money. Only a few days before she would have felt more free and powerful in her costume, but now she wasn't so sure about that anymore. It was scary how fast things could change. Even scarier how a single person could be the cause of the change. 

"You can do this," she murmured, adjusting the lace mask on her face. 

She sat on her bed, crossing her legs and picking up a pillow. It almost felt like a shield, a barrier between her and whoever was on the other side of the screen. Thinking it could protect her was foolish, but it made her feel safer, calmer. 

Finding him waiting for her in their chatroom was not a surprise. It happened often, but instead of feeling the usual sense of pride, it made her anxious.   
As soon as her part of the screen lit up, showing her presence to him, the usual two hundred dollar donation appeared in the chatbox. That sight made her stomach churn as a jolt of shame overcame her. She was probably about to end their business arrangement, he just didn't know yet. Getting money from him one last time should have not made her feel so gross, because their relationship was entirely professional, right? An exchange, a _quid pro quo_. There would never be anything more to it.

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Are you alright?_

Furrowing her brows at the question written on the chatbox, she found herself surprised by two things. The first one was how he had decided to type out the sentence instead of using his microphone like she had expected him to; the second, the most concerning one was how it had only taken him a few seconds to notice there was something wrong with her. Was she so easy to read? It appeared so, and she didn't like it one bit. She was slowly but surely losing control and that was something she was anything but ready to give up.

"Yes, everything's fine," she lied, her words falling flat and empty even to her ears. "How are you doing?"

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Tell me what's wrong, Miracle._

She winced as she read the nickname he had given her. That was way more difficult than she had expected it to be. She was already in too deep, which was so incredibly stupid on her part. That was rule number one: never, _ever_ , start caring about your clients. It never ended well.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she found the courage to speak again. "Actually, there is something I have been wanting to talk about. Could you, uh..." she sighed, closing her eyes, "could you show yourself, too? I think it's about time we both saw each other."

_PrinceOfDarkness69: Are you sure about this?_  
_PrinceOfDarkness69: I would never want to make you uncomfortable._

A small, uncertain smile stretched her lips. "Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry," she said. "I'm just really curious to see who's on the other side," she shrugged. 

_Liar_ , she thought. _Why can't you just tell anyone the truth these days?_

He did not answer, and she waited for a few seconds that almost felt like an eternity for something to happen. Then, the feed on his part of the screen showed a circular buffering symbol, before it lit up with the image of a young man in a white shirt with the first two buttons open.

Chloe genuinely wished to be surprised, but the truth was she did not expect to find anyone other than Lucifer Morningstar staring back at her. Even with his hair in disarray and the faintest hint of dark circles under his eyes he looked nothing but handsome. That was bad. That was really, extremely bad.

"You know who I am," she whispered, and it wasn't a question. It was a statement because at that moment more than ever she was sure he had recognized her the previous night at Lux. He had looked at her the whole time, had tried to talk to her and she had felt like they had met before. It was clear now they had, just never in person.

Lucifer adjusted his posture, looking uncomfortable. "I think I do," he replied. Gone was the fake American accent, substituted by the thick and smooth British one.

Her arms wrapped tighter around the pillow. She could feel the tell-tale signs of an emotional breakdown. Whenever she felt like crying it always started in her throat, like an itch that would spread and burn until it reached her eyes and filled them with warm tears. Chloe refused to cry, making the stinging worse.

"We can't do this anymore."

His eyes widened, evidently taken aback. "But... why? Have I done something to make you change your mind?" He asked.

Chloe shook her head. "No. I told you right from the start privacy is my priority and I can't have that with you," she shrugged, pretending nonchalance that felt foreign to her.

"Your secret is safe with me," he said. For a moment, she swore his eyes were burning right into hers from the screen and she almost believed him. Lucifer seemed so truthful and honest. Yet, she could not believe him. Letting her guard down meant risking too much.

"I can't," she repeated, shaking her head.

"I would never tell anyone about you, Chloe. Ever."

"Don't call me that!" She almost shouted at the sound of her name. What made it even worse was how much intensity he had put into that little word, like it meant something to him. "I am Cherry Jane, and this is exactly why we have to stop this. Please, don't contact me again."

"Wait, I didn't mean to," he began, but before he could speak any further she had ended the stream and banned him from her profile. 

She reached behind her head to untie the mask and take off the crimson-colored wig, throwing both across the room. They landed on the pavement with a soft thud just as her eyes watered and burned with fresh tears. If she decided to fool herself enough, she could pretend she was crying out of anger and frustration, about how much she had put her whole career at risk for something entirely delusional. The truth was far worse. A part of her had grown attached to him in the short period of time they had spent talking to each other and was not ready to let him go. Chloe had felt things for him she hadn't in a long time. It was scary but exciting at the same time because he felt like a friend but made her burn with a desire no one had yet provoked in her. Nevertheless, she had to let it go. She would never risk her future for a stupid crush, especially not on _him_.

It all made perfect sense in her mind, so why on earth was she crying? Her shoulders trembled with the effort of keeping herself from sobbing out loud, head bent low while the tears poured down her face and seeped into the fabric of the pillow she was holding. She felt pathetic for so many different reasons. 

Sniffling, her hand went to her laptop and closed the lid. Almost of their own volition, her legs stretched across the side of the bed and her feet hit the ground, making her walk out of the room. Chloe knew Ella was home — being that one of the days off from her part-time job — and she felt so grateful for that. Without bothering to knock first, she opened the door and found her best friend sprawled on her bed, eyes focused on a book as she mouthed the words to a song that could be faintly heard from the headphones in her ears. It took her a few seconds to notice Chloe standing on the threshold of her room, pillow still tightly clutched to her chest, eyes red and beginning to puff. 

Taking off the headphones, she shot up to a sitting position. "Oh my God, baby, what happened to you?"

Chloe fought to find an answer, but her mouth refused to move. Her chin wobbled uncontrollably as she sniffled in a futile attempt to stop crying. 

"Just come here," Ella said, scooting over to create some space on the queen-sized bed, patting onto the comforter with one hand. 

Chloe obliged, going to lay down on the mattress on one side, almost curling into herself in a fetal position. Leaving the book on her nightstand, Ella mirrored her and put one hand around her waist. 

"Please, tell me what's wrong. I can help you."

"No, you can't," she sobbed. Her own voice sounded foreign to her, stained and hoarse. "I'm an idiot."

Ella hugged her tighter. "You're definitely not an idiot, but be more specific maybe?" She asked.

New tears rolled down her cheeks and onto Ella's pillow. "The guy I was talking to, that... _client_ ," Chloe murmured, almost ashamed of everything she was about to admit, "he knows who I am."

"And how is that?"

"He saw me yesterday. Actually, he saw us."

She could feel Ella tense up behind her. "What? Is he stalking you or something?" Her panic was entirely understandable. 

"No. I mean he saw us at the club. He's the owner," she explained while her chest still rose and fell with her harsh breathing. 

Ella almost jumped up, trying to look at Chloe in the face. "You mean he's Lucifer Morningstar? Lux's owner?"

She just nodded, unable to speak further.

"Oh. My. Fucking. God," the brunette exclaimed, eyes wide in shock. "I'm sorry Big Guy, but this is insane," she quickly apologized with an upward glance to the ceiling, almost as if talking to God himself. "That was a twist I didn't see coming."

Chloe turned her head and tried her best to look at her roommate in a disapproving manner, but she wasn't so sure it was convincing at all.

"I'm sorry," Ella said, laying back down behind her, "I'm just very surprised. I mean, who would think someone like him needs cam sites to get some?" she shrugged. 

"Thanks, Ella, that makes me feel _so_ much better," Chloe croaked out.

Ella winced. "Sorry, I'm just trying to lighten the mood. But why are you so upset about it?"

"Did you miss the part where I said he knows who I am?"

"I get that, but has he threatened to expose you? Does he know any actual personal information about you?" When Chloe shook her head, she scoffed. "Then what's the problem, exactly?"

"Don't treat me with condescendence," she mumbled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I'm not. Listen," her roommate said, propping herself up on one elbow, "I've always been the first to warn you about being safe and trying to stay as anonymous as possible, but I only meant it because one day this all could pop up in your background check. Sure, worse people have entered police school before, but those things are usually frowned upon and you know that. That being said, if the guy knows about who you are and isn't about to rattle you out, I don't see the harm in it. Besides, it's not like he's a saint after all," she concluded.

Chloe tried to look at her, craning her neck. "What do you mean?"

"Well, his nightclub is notorious for selling drugs under the counter," Ella explained. "I'm not sure if he would like that exposed."

"Are you suggesting I should blackmail him into silence?" She asked almost incredulously.

"No?" Ella made a face, shrugging. "I'm just saying he has something to lose, too."

After a few seconds, Chloe shook her head. "I can't do it. It's just better if I cut contacts with him entirely," she stated.

"Okay, but I can tell you're not happy about it. And before you spew some bullshit about how you're crying about the tragic loss of your privacy, please remember I'm your best friend." 

Ella's words cut right through her. She was right about everything; on how Chloe was about to lie for what felt like the millionth time, but most importantly on how she was in fact not happy about cutting ties with Lucifer at all.

"I just... I liked him, you know?" Her voice broke again as a lone tear escaped her eye.

Ella nodded. "I know that, but I guess it all comes down to priorities. Is whatever you're feeling for him worth the risk of losing your dream job?" She asked simply. The question wasn't accusatory in any way, just plain and direct. 

Chloe knew the answer without having to think about it. "No."

"Then this too shall pass, chica," her friend replied softly. "One day you'll think back at this moment, sitting at your desk with a shining plate reading _detective Decker_ and you'll think it was all worth it," she said. "Of course, if you've found a sexy partner by then you won't even think about this moment at all."

That made her laugh, genuinely and wholeheartedly. "You're right. Thank you, Ella."

"You would have done the same for me."

"I would have," she agreed.

"But now I'm far too comfortable, so you'll have to sleep here with me tonight," Ella chuckled. 

"Fine," Chloe agreed, closing her eyes as Ella reached behind her to cut the lights.

She was extremely grateful for their friendship. Before Ella, she'd had many friends, but never one she could count on in such a way. She knew they would be there for each other no matter what, and that was enough to calm her down at least a little bit. Talking with her best friend had helped her make some clarity in her mind, yet there was still a part of her that ached for the loss of something she hadn't even had the chance to fully experience and understand. 

Becoming a cop, finally making her father proud of her, was the only thing that matter at the moment and she would let no one between her and that plan. Not even Lucifer Morningstar.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! We're halfway into this story, can you believe it? As usual, thanks for the immense support I'm receiving with each chapter, it means the world to me.
> 
> I really have much to say about this chapter, I guess the only thing you can do is reading it and give me your honest opinion about it. Next chapter might actually lead to something really important ;)  
> Hope you enjoy!  
> See you in five days x

Seconds stretched into something that felt like hours as Lucifer stared at the blank screen of his laptop. She had not given him any time to explain himself, to even talk to her properly. In a matter of moments he had been kicked out of her stream — _their_ stream — and effectively been blocked from her account entirely. 

He almost couldn't believe how easy that had been for her. Had he only imagined the connection between them? Was that strange sense of recognition he had felt as he saw for the first time her all inside his head? If that was the case, he didn't like it one bit.

As if in a daze, he barely registered closing his computer and getting up from the couch to walk towards the bar. He took the decanter of whiskey and a crystal glass in each hand, then went to sit on the piano bench. Contemplating the amber liquid as it poured out of the bottle, he realized just how tired he was. 

Sleep had not come easy the previous night. Images of her — both versions of the woman he was apparently obsessing about — kept flashing before his eyes. Even in the darkness of his bedroom at nighttime, he could see her face clearly, the events of their brief encounter replaying on a loop that left him restless for hours.   
The idea of seeing her again, albeit only in her digital version, made him anxious in a way he couldn't understand. Maybe he had simply felt things were about to go wrong in some way. They were bound to, with him; everything he touched inevitably turned to poison. The irony did not escape him.

Lucifer had hoped, somewhat foolishly, that things could stay the same after they had met. In time he could have figured out why his body was betraying him and if she truly was the cause of his sudden mortality, but that didn't mean they had to stop seeing each other. He was perfectly content with watching her on-screen if that was all she could offer him, but evidently, that was not a possibility anymore. Although he understood the reasons behind her decision, he didn't feel any less awful about it. 

In his entire, millennial life, Lucifer had never been able to find a connection with anyone until she had appeared. Not that he had been looking for one, admittedly. Sex was the only thing that connected him to humans, but that was just an exchange, a mere quid pro quo that would never have any deeper meaning. He gave them what they desired between the sheets and in return they gave him the pleasure and thrill he so desperately wanted. Every party was usually thoroughly satisfied, but there was no emotion there, no connection. 

And yet with her — someone he had not slept with — something had finally clicked. Just by talking he had found someone he didn't feel the need to shove out of his penthouse after a few hours. 

She had shut him out, though. Without the slightest hint of hesitation, she had closed any line of communication between them. And he hated it, plain and simple. Lucifer's chest felt heavy and constricted as if a boulder had been placed on top of it and nothing could knock it out of the way. He could only hope the liquor would help.

After a few useless glasses of whiskey, he put the glass on the piano case and took the cigarette packet out of the backside pocket of his pants. It was a little smooshed and crinkled up, but the cigarettes were mostly intact. He took one out and put it between his lips, then ignited the lighter with a flick of his finger. The first hit of nicotine instantly soothed his nerves, making his shoulders relax a fraction. Weed would have been ideal in that situation, but his personal stash had run out and he had completely forgotten about refurbishing it. That needed to be remedied. He could have found some downstairs at Lux, amongst many other types of drugs, but the idea of walking into his club and having to dodge who knew how many people for the sole purpose of getting mildly high seemed like too much effort to go through. 

So he settled for the simple satisfaction tobacco and nicotine could give him. Using the empty crystal glass as a makeshift ashtray, he drank straight from the decanter and kept on taking drag after drag of the cigarette. When he sucked in, the smoke went down his throat and into his lungs. He held it there for a few seconds before exhaling through slightly parted lips, greyish wisps issuing from his mouth to form into a cloud just above his head. Once he had reached the filter, he put out the roach into the glass. 

His eyes roamed on the piano keys for a few seconds. He hadn't played in a while, too engrossed in other things — in _her_ , mostly. Lucifer wasn't exactly in the mood for music, or better, he wasn't in the mood for anything other than getting as wasted as possible to dull whatever feeling the thought of her provoked. He wanted to drown out the thoughts that kept surfacing, and since drugs were not an option for the night, he decided music and liquor would be the next best thing. 

He placed the half-empty bottle on the piano, cracking his knuckles as he searched inside his memory for a piece he would have liked to play. His mind seemed blank, devoid of any score he had learned throughout the years. Stretching his long fingers, he decided to wing it and simply let his emotions guide him since he apparently had so many of them.

Who would have thought the Devil could have feelings? That was surreal for him, too. A part of him had accepted the idea everyone else seemed to have formed on his persona, while the other loathed the simple thought of it. They were all so wrong about him; Lucifer included, it seemed.

Music filled the silent penthouse. The notes were soft and gentle at first, then grew louder, almost angrier, as his piece progressed. There was a certain melancholy to the song; it made his eyes water, his vision blurring so much he could barely see his fingers as they pressed on the keys.   
Once again, he felt rejected. Was that truly his destiny? Being constantly discarded as something unimportant, disposable? He hated it, and he wanted to hate her too, but couldn't find it in his heart to do so. 

She had just done what she thought was best for her. Were they not all free, after all? Had he not fought for that same freedom of choice? 

Exhaling through his nose, Lucifer slammed his hands on the piano, making the keys protest out of tune. He closed the lid and got up, unbuttoning his shirt. What he needed was a warm shower, a good night of sleep, and — as much as he hated to admit it — some real therapy. 

* * *

Talking to Linda Martin was the first thing he did the following morning. He had decided to do things right, so calling in to make an appointment instead of barning into her office unannounced seemed like the right course of action. 

Although mildly taken aback, she did not sound too surprised to hear from him again and promptly found him a free spot that same morning, only two hours after their call. Something told Lucifer there was more than just professional curiosity to her attitude, but he didn't care, as long as it helped him get where he wanted.   
He wanted her back, in whatever capacity she was willing to give him. But he was well aware there were so many things he needed to work on before he could fix what they had. 

Doctor Linda was waiting for him when he knocked on her office door because he could hear the muffled sound of her heels as she walked back and forth on the carpeted floor. She opened the door on his second knock, greeting him with a wide but anxious smile.

"Hello, Lucifer. Please, take a seat," she said, gesturing towards the couch. She walked to her usual chair, sitting right in front of him. "It seemed urgent, based on your call," she added.

Lucifer sat with his legs crossed, hands locking on his left knee. "Well, something happened last night and I needed someone to talk to," he nodded.

"I'm here to listen," the doctor prompted, crossing her own legs at the ankles. Linda was wearing a tight-fitting blue dress, with a zipper that ran in the middle from bottom to top. Lucifer could tell she was a very attractive woman in her late thirties, yet he didn't feel the usual need to see her naked. Sure, they had already been together once, but he wasn't looking for a repeat anytime soon. That was bizarre, to say the least. 

"I already told you about the girl I met online," he began, shifting on the couch uncomfortably. "The one you thought made me vulnerable."

"I never said _she_ makes you vulnerable, Lucifer, but I do remember you talked about her."

"Well, we were not supposed to meet. It just... happened. We found each other on the same path, somehow, and when I saw her I just knew it was her. The thing is, she's very protective of her privacy and decided to cut ties with me entirely," Lucifer explained to the best of his abilities. Talking about their situation without disclosing too many details was no easy task. 

Doctor Linda nodded slowly as if absorbing and processing the information. "I assume you don't agree with her decision," she stated.

Lucifer scoffed. "That is the understatement of the century."

"Why is that?"

"Because..." he sighed, rolling the onyx ring between thumb and index finger, "because it makes no bloody sense. I would never, ever reveal her identity to anyone. She didn't even give me a chance to explain it to her," he concluded, sounding almost defeated.

"And how does that make you feel?" Linda asked.

"I thought what we had was... _real_ , somehow? A true connection. Maybe it simply was one-sided. But I still feel this need to talk to her, to at least get a chance to apologize if I did anything to make her not trust me."

Her eyes seized him up, making him feel under scrutiny. "Have you stopped for one second to think about how all of this makes _her_ feel?" She suggested, shrugging one shoulder, almost casually. 

Lucifer did exactly that and for a second he forgot about what he felt, concentrating on her. He knew she was a student, someone with a life that went far beyond her online alter ego. If she was so sensitive about keeping that information on the down-low, she most likely had a reason. He couldn't entirely understand her point of view because he simply never was a private person. He didn't care if everyone around him knew about his identity. Obviously, she did. Who was he to judge that? He refused to be all high and mighty, with that holier-than-thou attitude he so despised about his Father. 

He shook his head. "I can't say I have. I guess she felt... trapped," he finally said, as some sort of realization hit him. 

Had he not done the same in the past? When he had felt trapped, forced to be something that felt foreign, he had fought with everything in him. Sure, that had resulted in his fall from Heaven, but at least he had tried. She was not him, though. Her reaction was different and he had to respect her choice. Yet...

"I don't... I don't want to lose her," Lucifer admitted, voice shaking with a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend. 

Linda's expression softened. "As you said, she probably felt trapped and that was her way of regaining control," she explained. "Give her some time. Let her do her own thing at least for a few days, then maybe try and contact her. Keep in mind this till could lead nowhere, though."

"You think I should try and talk to her again?"

"Well, yes and no. She might not take this further invasion in her life in a good way. If she does, you'll get the chance to talk things over and possibly keep her in your life; if she doesn't, you'll at least get some closure and know you have tried to make things better."

Lucifer nodded slowly, taking her words in. "I guess that could be a good idea," he agreed.

A small smile stretched on Linda's mouth. "Just remember to respect her boundaries. Don't push it. If there really is a real connection, she won't need to be forced."

He moved his head up and down again. "I feel way better now that I've talked about this to someone, actually," he admitted. 

Linda couldn't stop a soft snort from escaping her. "This is my job, you know."

"You're pretty good at it," he shrugged. "I guess payment in kind is off the table now, isn't it?" Lucifer added with a sly smile.

"As much as I enjoyed our night together, that would be highly inappropriate now that you're my patient, Lucifer."

"I guess you will be missing out on a hell of a good time," he kept on joking, making her roll her eyes.

"Oh, I know, but I think you as a patient are far more interesting. We can definitely make some good progress," she replied. 

"How should I pay you then?"

"Like everyone else, Lucifer," Linda said, one corner of her mouth turned up in a smile, "with money."

  
_____________

The urge to talk to her hit Lucifer as soon as he left Doctor Martin's office. He didn't exactly have a way of contacting her yet, so like it or not, he had to wait as the therapist had said. 

Multiple times during the following days the need to see her, to talk to her, resurfaced stronger than ever. Even after he had successfully found her phone number — among other pieces of information he had gotten from a private investigator who owed him a favor — he had to squash down the idea of contacting her in any way. Sure, he could have found a way to create a new profile and watch her public livestreams, but that would defeat the purpose. Breaking her trust further was not an option. 

After two weeks of no communication between them, he was downright restless. Sleeping came with great difficulty and in fragments. He would wake up multiple times per night, not being able to fall back asleep for hours on end. He barely visited the nightclub anymore, and sex with random people he would pick up at the bar was entirely out of the question. Not that he hadn't tried. The first few days after his session with Linda had been a whirlwind of drugs, booze and one-night stands for the sole purpose of keeping his mind busy. It hadn't worked. Between the sheets, on the multitude of faces contorted with pleasure and lust, he could only ever see hers. It would usually make him freeze, losing all interest in sleeping with anyone and making him throw the latest ill-fated conquest out of his penthouse. 

So one morning, after a particularly restless night, he found himself with his phone in hand, finger hovering over the dial buttons.   
Even he could admit he looked like hell. His hair was a mess of curly locks going in all directions, some of it falling just above his eyes. The only thing he had been wearing the past few days were pajama pants and robes, or nothing at all. A black, silk robe with burgundy trim hung loosely from his shoulders. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles, the whites bloodshot, giving him a haunted look. He was a mess, plain and simple, and he felt pathetic. 

But he didn't care anymore. He had waited as much as he physically could and his restraints were starting to wear off, crumbling down.   
His fingers moved on the digits on the screen, composing the number he had memorized due to the amount of times he had read the file his P.I. had given him.

It felt like his heart was thumping inside his throat as he lifted the phone to his ear and began hearing the dial tone. It went on for a while, then there was a click. "Hi, it's Chloe! I'm probably busy right now or just ignoring you, so leave a message but I can't promise I'll listen to it," the pre-recorded message said. 

Lucifer let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in a puff. For all he knew she could be actually busy and unable to answer, still, he redialed her number.  
That went on for a few minutes. He would call her number only to reach her voicemail and end the communication without leaving a message, then start calling again. _So much for respecting her boundaries_ , he thought, grimacing. On the eleventh time, the phone clicked sooner than anticipated. 

"Listen, I don't know who you are or if you're just calling to sell something or another," the exasperated, hushed voice on the other line said, "but unless someone's dying, leave me alone. Criminology makes me want to rip my hair out even without your insistence."

He was rendered speechless just by listening to her sultry, silky voice. A rush of adrenaline coursed through him, making a smile stretch on his face. The reality of how much he had missed her hit him in full force, knocking the wind out of him. 

"Great, since you don't have anything to say, I'll hang up now. By-"

"Wait!" Lucifer said, almost too loudly.

On the other side, he heard a sharp intake of air. He knew she had recognized him. 

"H-How did you... How did you get this number?" She asked, her voice barely more than a shaky whisper. 

"I have connections," he replied plainly, truthfully. There was no need to lie, and besides, he never lied.

There was rustling, the sound of hair being combed through fingers. He could tell she was nervous, possibly scared. Barging into her life once again, unannounced, was surely not his cleverest move. 

"I'm gonna hang up," she repeated. 

"Please, just let me talk. Give me one chance to explain. If after that you still don't want anything to do with me, I will leave you alone," he said a little too fast, words jumbled up in the rush of getting them out before she could end the conversation. "I promise," he added.

She exhaled. "Your promises don't mean anything."

"On the contrary, they mean very much to me. I'm a Devil of my word."

Chloe sighed, and it sounded like she was chewing on something — her bottom lip or the insides of her cheeks, perhaps. "I have to get back to class," was her protest, but it seemed feeble.

"Actually, I would prefer if we met up in person," he suggested. His free hand found his hair, tugging gently on it.

"Absolutely not," she replied resolutely.

"We cannot have this kind of conversation on the phone. Just please, let me visit you," he insisted.

He could almost feel her rolling her eyes. "That is out of the discussion. I'm not telling you where I live."

Lucifer could have argued he already knew her address, but it seemed counterproductive. "Then meet me at Lux. We won't be alone if that's what you're worried about." He was ready to make any compromise to see her, to talk to her. 

"I'm not scared," she retorted in that _I know how to handle myself_ attitude he liked so much about her, "but no. Your club is pretty far from where I live and I don't own a car," she concluded. 

"I can send you a car."

"Of course you can," she muttered almost to herself. "And how would you do that without knowing my address?" She asked.

"Listen to me, if I wanted to come to your place without your consent I would have already. I told you, I have connections," he reminded her.

A scoff came from the other line. "You're not giving up, are you?"

Her question was rhetorical, but he answered anyway. "No."

"Text me the number of the driver, I'll send him my address," she finally gave in. 

"Okay," he nodded to himself. He couldn't help but grin, a small part of him knowing by her tone she was enjoying their banter at least a little bit.

"Great," she scoffed.

"Brilliant," retorted Lucifer, and with that, she hung up on him.

When he sent her the driver's number she did not reply. He wasn't expecting her to, but a tiny part of him still felt disappointed at their lack of communication.   
A strange hope was starting to bloom inside of him, making him giddy and outright scared at the same time. What in the hell was that woman doing to him?

  
When the time came to get ready and head downstairs to Lux, all the pent-up tension and frustration took over him in full force. He almost felt uncomfortable inside his own skin. He changed his outfit three times before ultimately settling for a brown three-piece suit paired with a black shirt and matching Italian leather shoes.   
As much as he tried to convince himself he was not getting ready to impress her, even he knew that was not the complete truth. Sure, he did have a standard when it came to his looks, but changing attire multiple times just to spend the night at his club was a novelty. 

He felt more and more anxious as the night progressed. Once he was on the bottom level of the building, surrounded by music and strangers dancing and chatting the night away, he did not feel any more comfortable. He found himself checking the entrance on multiple occasions, chugging on his usual whiskey like it was water, and he a man dying of thirst.   
Avoiding men and women trying to strike up a conversation with him was anything but easy. A few were particularly insistent, but he managed to let them down as gently as possible, trying not to ruin his business. 

Maze, on the other hand, seemed to be following his every move attentively. He could feel her eyes bore into him and that made him even more uncomfortable.

Once she was within earshot, Lucifer snapped, "What?"

She kept on doing her thing, grabbing a few bottles of beer to serve some patrons. "You look... nervous," she replied, almost unbothered, but Lucifer could tell sometimes was boiling under her skin. 

"Don't be preposterous, Mazikeen."

"Are you waiting for someone?" She asked.

He nursed the last of many whiskey glasses. "And what if I am?"

"Since when have you been nervous before a hookup?" Maze moved closer, her face inches away from his. 

He sustained her stare. "She's not a hookup," he snarled.

She scoffed. "No, of course _she_ isn't," she retorted and moved away from the portion of the counter he was leaning against, getting back to cleaning glasses.

Her attitude was getting on his nerves greatly, but he had more important things to think about than a demon throwing temper tantrums. She would get over it eventually, as she always did.

After what felt like hours, he saw her emerge from the entrance door and walk steadily towards the stairs. His first thought was how beautiful she looked in her simplicity. As she descended from the upper level of the club, he took her whole frame in. She was wearing a simple red button-down blouse with short, puffy sleeves and a pair of black pants. Heeled boots made her legs look even longer and more toned than he knew they already were. Her dark blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and back in natural curls, moving like ocean waves on a warm, sunny day. Even in the dim, bluish light of the nightclub, he could see she wasn't wearing too much makeup, if any at all. There was a natural beauty to her that made her glow, radiant and youthful. Some light shone on her lips, making the gloss she was wearing sparkle and glimmer. 

He had already seen her naked — although only through a screen — yet she had never been more beautiful than in that exact moment, and Lucifer couldn't be more aware of that. He was awestruck.   
Once she had reached the foot of the stairs their eyes met. She seemed wary, tense even. He hated being the cause of the crease forming on her usually smooth forehead, a sign of her worry. 

Her chest rose as she took a deep breath, willing herself to walk towards him, their eyes never parting. The hint of a smile formed on Lucifer's lips, one she did not reciprocate, and it died down immediately. 

"Thanks for coming," he said, moving away from the counter he had been leaning against.

She grimaces. "It's not like you really gave me a choice," she pointed out.

He pretended not to hear her remark. "Can I offer you something to drink?"

"How do I know you haven't instructed your bartender to spike my drink with something?"

Frowning, he said, "I'm not a bloody stalker, for crying out loud. Do you honestly think I would resort to such barbaric actions?"

She shrugged, arching her eyebrows. Even though there was some sincerity to her words, she was now teasing him more than anything. Her eyes were glimmering with a mischievous light and the faintest hint of a smile was slowly forming on her lips. "Who knows," she simply said, then drew the bartender's attention to herself by weaving her hand. "A glass of red wine for me and a whiskey for your boss, neat," she said, but instead of talking to the boy on the other side of the bar, she was looking directly at Lucifer. 

Her behavior reminded him of a feline trying to assert dominance. It was her way of showing him _she_ was the one in control, but her previous actions contradicted her. It was a façade. She was acting like Cherry Jane when the only one he wanted to see was Chloe Decker all along.

"You pay attention, I see," he commented. 

She didn't reply. Her eyes scanned the room as she tapped her fingers on the smooth surface of the counter.   
A few moments later the bartender was back with their order and she politely thanked him. 

"Shall we go sit down somewhere?" He gestured to a few empty booths on the more quiet side of Lux, away from the blaring music. The goal of the night was talking things out, so having speakers directly in their ears was not a great idea. 

"Fine," she nodded, moving to reach a free spot before he could even start walking. 

She was trying to make her disinterest clear, yet there she was. He had been insistent, that much was true, but he could tell she was the kind of person who took orders from no one. If she had decided to meet him, chances were she wanted it as much as he did, or at least he hoped so.

She sat on the booth and Lucifer slid next to her, close enough to smell her sweet perfume but trying to keep a comfortable distance. There was enough room for her to scoot further away if she so wanted, but she stayed put, taking the first sip of her red wine. Eyes fixed on her lips, he watched as they wrapped around the rim of the glass, leaving a faint imprint with her gloss. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed and the unexpected urge to replace the glass with his own mouth overcame him at once.   
Lucifer shook his head, diverting his attention from her face to the table in front of them as he drank from his whiskey. 

"Listen, I've got class tomorrow morning, so I'd really appreciate it if we could make this quick," she told him, her index finger tracing the edge of her wine glass.

"Uh, sure," he nodded, placing his drink down. "I wanted to meet you because I thought you should know that your secret is safe with me," he said, finding her eyes and holding her gaze steadily. Admittedly words and feelings did not come easy to him, but he hoped his eyes could convey just how totally sincere he was being with her.

Her steely expression faltered. Taking a breath, she murmured, "It's not like I don't want to believe you, okay? There's so much more at stake than you would understand."

"Try me."

Chloe shook her head. "I'm not comfortable with this." She almost covered her face with the glass, taking a big swig of the purplish red liquid. 

"Well, I can't force you to do anything you're not comfortable doing, but... I just want you to know that I cared about what we had. I never quite connected with anyone the way I did with you," he admitted. 

She rolled her eyes, a mocking grin on her lips. "From what I've heard you've _connected_ with a lot of people before," she pointed out.

He arched an eyebrow. Was jealousy that thing he was detecting in her voice? "I was not talking about _physical_ connection. I meant something deeper, more personal."

Combing her hair with the hand that wasn't holding the glass, she looked away for a moment. "I liked talking to you too if that's what you mean," was her initial reply and it seemed like it had almost slipped out of her, making her snap her eyes back to him. "And that's even more of a reason not to keep on doing... whatever we were doing. I don't form personal relationships with my clients."

That was the way she saw him, then. Just a client. He couldn't expect to be something else to her, but why did that statement make him feel so uncomfortable? 

Lucifer picked up the crystal tumbler and drained the remainings of his whiskey. His eyes were fixed on the glass, focusing on the way the lights bunched off of it casting a multitude of tiny rainbows all over the place. "So I assume you don't talk to every client the way you did with me," he pointed out with an eerily calm demeanor. 

He saw her shift on the spot in the corner of his eye. "No, but that's not the point."

"What _is_ the point?" He asked, still looking away from her. "So far you've only repeated you cannot do this, that it makes you uncomfortable, but why? If my word means nothing to you, I can sign a non-disclosure agreement. I'm just a client to you, am I not? Then treat me as such."

Chloe swallowed, biting down on her bottom lip. "You make it all sound so easy," she scoffed.

"It is."

"It really is not."

"Why?" He questioned her again, turning to look back at her face. Even in the colored lights of the club, her eyes reminded him of tiny pits of ocean water, but the kind that hid a storm so powerful it could destroy everything it touched. 

She chewed nervously on the inside of her right cheek. "I want to become a cop," she blurted out.

"I beg your pardon?" He frowned, confused. 

"After my bachelor's degree, I want to go to the Police Academy and become a cop. Hopefully a detective, one day."

"Detective?" He repeated.

"Don't sound so judgemental," she replied, taking another sip of wine as to give herself some more courage.

Lucifer shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, I think your career plan is admirable, you just surprised me, that's all."

"Well, that's the reason why I keep everything anonymous online. They'll have to run a background check on me, and hopefully, by then all the evidence of my online persona will be gone, but I can't risk it. Getting naked for money and becoming a cop don't exactly go hand in hand," she explained. "You're a threat."

"I'm the last person who would want to rattle you out."

"Because of the illicit affairs you got going on in your club?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

"Oh, look at you, Detective! Aren't you just cut for the job?" He joked. "Yes, that, and as I said I have connections everywhere, most of them not exactly legal. Although I don't always follow your human rules, I prefer keeping a low profile and not getting involved with the police," he continued. "Not that I wouldn't be able to find a way to bribe all of them, but still."

She rolled her eyes. "You think everyone has a price, uh?"

He shrugged. "Most of you humans do, but it wasn't just money I was talking about. I'm quite good at reading people, finding what they desire, what makes them tick. It's my gift," he said. "I wonder why it doesn't work on you."

"Maybe you're not as good as you think you are," was her reply.

"Or maybe there's something different in you," he murmured. "But I guess you did tell me what you desire in the end. It's becoming a cop," he pointed out.

"Oh, you read me like an open book," she sarcastically retorted. 

He ignored her comment. "I just wonder, why is that? What made you decide to enter law enforcement in the first place?" He asked.

"If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"

Lucifer pondered that for a few moments, weighing his chances. He didn't want to let her go in the slightest, but Doctor Linda had helped him realized this was not only about him. If her final decision was being left alone, he would oblige. Maybe that was the closure his therapist was talking about.

He nodded curtly. "You have my word."

Chloe's lips parted as she took a small, shuddering breath, almost surprised at his response. "Okay, but this is a long story. Do you have somewhere more private where we could talk?" She asked, her eyes roaming around the multitude of people dancing and chatting a short distance away.

"I live on the last floor of this building," he suggested, watching her frown at his words. "I'm not planning on taking advantage of you," he added.

"Of course you're not, I'd kick you in the balls if you tried to do that."

A sincere laugh rumbled deep inside his chest, making his head roll backward. "I don't doubt that. So, what do you say?"

She hesitated just a fraction of a second, before nodding and saying, "Lead the way."

They both stood up and as per usual, Chloe walked a few steps ahead of him. Almost without thinking, he put his right hand on the small of her back, leading her towards the elevator. She shot him a look but didn't say anything. Lucifer felt observed, as though a pair of eyes were following them while they walked through the crowd and something told it they belonged to Maze. He couldn't care less about her opinion on the matter.  
As the doors slid open and they got inside, a strange electricity filled the air, making it so thick and heavy he felt like his lungs were filling with smoke instead of oxygen. 

He looked down at her. Her posture was rigid, eyes fixed ahead of herself, but he swore he could hear her heart beating just as fast as his own was.   
Something told him the night was about to take a very unexpected turn.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go. The chapter we've all been waiting for. At some point I actually debated changing the whole thing so that our lovely pair played Monopoly just to watch you all go crazy but even I am not that evil!  
> As usual I want to take a moment to say thank you to each one of you for reading, commenting and supporting me overall. 
> 
> Oh, and if you aren't already, follow me on twitter @morningstars_x  
> I'll be seeing you in 5 days x

_What am I doing?_ Chloe asked herself as they rode up to Lucifer's place. _What the hell were you thinking? This is not ending well._

She had regretted her decision the second the doors had slid shut in front of her. Her eyes were focused on the point the two sides connected, not daring to look up at him.   
His hand was resting gently on her back and even through the thin fabric of her blouse she could feel his warmth spreading on her skin. His touch was so hot it almost felt like he had a fever. The fact he was so close to her didn't help, because his entire body seemed to radiate the same heat, making her start to sweat. 

Everything about that night had been a bad decision, starting from the moment she had accepted to meet him. Sure, he had been incredibly insistent, calling her non-stop while in class to the point she could do nothing but get out of the room and answer her phone. Chloe had convinced herself she had agreed just to get him off her back once and for all, but that wasn't the whole truth.   
_It's not like you've been pining over him for the past two weeks, right?_ A small, insistent voice in the back of her head said, making her sigh. She felt his stare on her intensify at that moment but tried to ignore it. 

Maybe pining was too strong of a word, but even she couldn't deny the fact she had been thinking about him from time to time. Not even that often at all. Just in the mornings, when she woke up from a dream involving him. Or during classes, her mind slipping off to their conversations both online and in real life. When she streamed for someone else, a tiny bit of dread — or hope, she wasn't sure which one anymore — he had created another account and was still watching her from afar, not speaking, blending among the other users. And before she went to bed, wondering if he too thought about her sometimes as she did. It wasn't an abnormal amount of times, not at all.

If she chose to be completely honest with herself, she didn't even know _why_ she missed him the way she did. They didn't know each other at all. Most of the knowledge they had about one another was half-truths and neatly fabricated lies. There were a few real things here and there, but that couldn't be nearly enough to form a real connection. Yet she felt it. It was there, undeniable. She could fool herself all she wanted but that was the true reason why she had said yes to meeting him in person. 

The rational part of her brain constantly reminded her that, no matter how much she liked him, forming a connection with Lucifer Morningstar was simply not possible. That would mean putting her entire life path in jeopardy and she wasn't about to do that. Not for him, not for anyone. 

After what felt like the longest elevator ride of her life, the doors finally opened again and she found herself on the threshold of a penthouse. His hand pushed a little on the small of her back, guiding her into the vast open space in front of her.  
The place looked like a perfect representation of Lucifer's personality. It had a classic aesthetic, elegant and sophisticated. Everything looked incredibly expensive, from the leather couches to the grand piano positioned at the center of the living room. A huge bar took up the entirety of a wall on her right, the shelves stocked with various kinds of alcoholic beverages. There were carpets on the floor, glass tables and shelves ornated with the most different trinkets imaginable. From the open balcony door, she could see the outline of Los Angeles at night, full of lights and life, but she noticed the stars were visible too. 

It was beautiful, there was no denying it. He was wealthy and liked to show it off. 

Lucifer moved past her, reaching the counter of his personal bar. "Can I offer you something else to drink?" He asked, unbuttoning his jacket and shrugging it off his shoulders. He left it on one of the stools, eyes never wavering from hers.

Chloe wasn't exactly one to drink much, but some more liquid courage couldn't hurt her that night. "I'd like another glass of red wine if you have it," she replied. 

"What is the point in having my own bar if I can't stock it up with every kind of booze imaginable?" He chuckled, a low and raspy sound that send shivers down Chloe's back. Lucifer moved around the counter, bending down to look for a bottle of wine. When he found it, he grabbed two glasses and skillfully went to uncork the bottle. He filled the glasses halfway, heading one to her when she had moved closer to the bar. 

She accepted it with a small smile that felt a little forced. Lucifer lifted his glass to hers, waiting. It took a few seconds for Chloe to register what he was asking for, and with a roll of her eyes clinked her own glass to his. He was so ridiculous but charming at the same time, she almost couldn't believe she liked someone so unapologetically out there. 

"Make yourself at home," he gestured towards the area where all the couches were situated. He rounded the counter, going to sit on one of them.

Feeling like some distance was needed, she followed him but decided to take the armchair on his side instead. He eyed her as if wanting to make some remark about the way she had purposefully decided to sit away from him but didn't say a word, simply smirking as he took the first sip of red wine.

"I'm all ears," he said as a way of urging her to speak, leaning against the backrest of the couch, one arm on top of it. 

Truth was, Chloe didn't know exactly where to begin. Everything she wanted to say was way too personal, so near and dear to her she didn't know if trusting him with all that information was the right choice. He had even suggested signing an NDA, which was a big deal, but the idea of laying her whole life in front of him still felt too weird. 

She lifted the glass to her lips, savoring the rich flavor of the wine for a few moments as she gathered her thoughts. Her story needed to start at the very beginning. "When I was a child, I thought I would become an actress like my mom," she said, and even though her eyes were fixed on the rim of her glass, she felt his burning on her face. "Not that I _wanted_ to be one. It just felt like the natural course of things. Ever since I could walk I was forced into pretty dresses and taken to auditions. I guess at first I was some sort of prop to my mom, helping her land roles, but then as years went by she insisted I had to take acting classes. She always said I was a natural, just like her," she grimaced. 

Looking up, their gazes met. Lucifer didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue. He wasn't judging her or the way she spoke about her own mother, simply listening, almost eager to get to know her better. Or at least, that was what she chose to see in his expression. 

"My father told me to humor her, and I didn't mind acting, so I did. He was a cop. They say a little girl's first love is always her father and I can tell you mine was definitely him. Don't get me wrong, I did love my mother — I still do — but the relationship I had with my dad was just on another level. I used to look up to him like he had been the one to light up the stars in the sky," she chuckled, shaking her head at the childish thought. Lucifer was so still, he looked like he had stopped breathing completely. "Fast forward a few years, I took part in my first and last movie, Hot Tub High School."

At that, he seemed to jerk back to reality. "I knew I had seen you somewhere already! I actually like that movie a lot, my favorite part-"

"Let me guess," she interrupted him, "your favorite part is my full-frontal nude scene, correct?" She asked, a sarcastic smile on her face as one of her brows arched. 

He let out a short laugh. "Spot on. Can you blame me for it?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, taking another sip of the deep red liquid. "That movie is far from being a cinematic masterpiece, so I guess my tits can count as the highlight of the plot," she shrugged. "But that's beside the point. I took the job because my mother convinced me to. You'd think your own mother wouldn't want to have your privates on full display on a theatre screen, but I guess that isn't the case with mine. My dad wasn't ecstatic but he supported me. He tried to convince anyone who would listen to go see my movie. He was honestly the best."

Her mind drifted off for a few seconds, images of her father flashing before her eyes. The burning sensation in the back of her throat that proceeded tears made itself known and she tried to wash it down with more wine.

"The night before the premiere I was so anxious I could barely sit still. My father was on duty and about to clock out, so I called him and asked to get me my favorite sandwich. There's this place that makes the most delicious Hawaiian bread on earth, and it wasn't en route for him but he still went there just for me. I remember he told me _'Anything for you, monkey. See you in ten, love you'_ before hanging up," she recounted, trying to imitate her father's voice. "So when the doorbell rang I went to open it expecting to see him but found two of his colleagues instead. They asked to speak to my mother and I remember feeling so confused, I couldn't understand why they wouldn't speak to me. I was an adult. And then..." she drifted off, sighing. 

Chloe could tell by the way he was looking at her, Lucifer knew the end of the story. He wasn't eyeing her with pity or false sympathy, instead, his body was tense and his breathing uneven as if he could not only see her pain but feel it too.

"There had been a robbery," her voice cracked with the effort of stopping her tears from springing out her eyes. "Apparently he had tried to reason with the thief and the guy had just shot him point-blank. The doctors said he died almost on the spot. The bullet went right through his heart and lodged itself there. There was nothing that could have been done. At first, I felt like it was my fault. I mean, he wasn't supposed to be there, I was the one asking to bring me a fucking sandwich," she admitted, almost shaking with rage. "But some things never made much sense. Something was off about the whole situation. So I quit acting, changed my university, and decided to become a cop. Maybe it won't solve anything, but I sure as hell will do anything in my power so that no one else feels as helpless as I did that night. If I can't solve my father's murder, I'll solve other people's, so that no family has to live with the absence I have to live with."

Lucifer hadn't touched his own wine in a while, so enraptured in her story. "You want to become a cop to honor your father," he said matter-of-factly.

"I guess you could say that," she nodded, clearing her throat. She drained the little amount of wine in her glass, putting it down on the table in front of her. "As I said, once I apply for Police Academy, they'll do a very extensive background check. My friend is a little bit of a geek and has some connections to people that can wipe Cherry Jane's existence from the internet. You..." she sighed, looking into his dark irises, "you weren't exactly in my plans. Actually, you weren't in my plans at all. When I realized you knew who I was I freaked out, but can you blame me? I've been working for years to get where I want to be, I won't let anyone take that away from me."

Lucifer simply nodded. "I understand that and I have to admit, I admire your determination. But believe me when I say I would never, _ever_ be an obstacle in your quest."

She could tell he was sincere, yet there was something she couldn't quite comprehend. "Why me?" Chloe asked abruptly, propping one elbow onto the armrest, inching closer to him. Frowning, he seemed not to have fully understood the meaning behind her question. "You can have all the real-life sex you want, as far as I know, but you still tuned in to watch me, talk to me, _pay me_. I don't get it," she admitted, trying to explain what was on her mind.

"I find you fascinating. From the first moment I saw you I just felt like I wanted to get to know you."

"That's it? I'm interesting?" 

He shrugged. "Why being a cam girl, though?" She seemed not too inclined to answer the question, so he added, "I gave you an explanation, it is only fair you answer me."

Chloe bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. "My mother was supposed to pay for tuition, but she doesn't agree with my career choice. I get it, she's already lost a husband to the job and doesn't want to lose a daughter too, but it's my life, I'm the only one who gets to decide what to do with it," she replied. 

"So she cut you off?"

"No, not really. We had a huge fight and we haven't really been able to patch things up since. She's offered help many times, I'm just too stubborn to accept it. Being a cam girl pays my bills and my education. I know I have the kind of body men will lust after, so I take advantage of it to get what I want. Is that so wrong?" She asked.

"Not at all. Don't get me wrong, I'm as far away from judging your choices as possible. I was simply curious," he explained. "I can't pretend to understand why you would want to follow in your father's footsteps, but I admire that. Forgive me for being so insistent in wanting to see you, I won't bother you any further," he concluded.

Chloe should have felt relief at that moment, knowing her explanation had finally gotten them the closure they both seemed to need. So why didn't she feel it? Why did she still want to talk to him? 

"You really don't get along with your father, do you?" She found herself asking, trying to keep the conversation going.

"Would you get along with a self-centered prick? As far as I know, he hasn't talked to any of my siblings in eons, let alone to me. So no, I'd rather not become like him, thank you very much."

"Do your siblings talk to you?"

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Only one of them, and he's constantly bugging me to go back to Hell, which is not happening."

 _Hell_. Right, the Devil thing. Sometimes she seemed to forget about it.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Too many to count."

Chloe's brows arched in disbelief. "Does your father go around disseminating kids everywhere or what?"

"I guess Him and my Mother just wanted a big family," he shrugged. "I actually have a twin. He hates me more than anyone else."

She tried to take in all the information, her eyes wide as she stared at his still composed figure. Lucifer seemed not to care, but something told her that deep, deep down he was hurting. 

"Wow, your family is messed up," she laughed, unable to contain herself. 

He mirrored her, the sound rumbling inside his chest and making her insides clench. She couldn't help but wonder, had they met in different circumstances, would they have been friends? It was evident how much they got along. But that was probably not an option. 

Chloe looked at her wristwatch and realized it was way past midnight. If she took the cab back home now, she would hopefully be in bed by one-thirty in the morning. 

"I should be going now," she said, getting back on her feet. She didn't want to, but she had to go.

"I'll accompany you outside," he replied, getting up from the couch and leaving his half-empty glass on the table. 

"There's no need to," she murmured with the faintest hint of a smile.

"Nonsense. I insist."

Chloe knew there was no use in arguing with him, so she walked to the elevator with Lucifer right behind her. She could still feel the heat radiating from his entire body. Once inside, she leaned against one of the sides of the elevator, trying to distance herself from him.  
She watched him closely, eyes roaming his entire frame. Her brain almost couldn't register the fact he was the one she had gotten naked for, the one that had watched her climax from a screen as he controlled the vibrator inside her. At the memory, liquid heat pooled between her legs.

He was incredibly handsome, in his black shirt and brown waistcoat matching his pants. The pieces of clothing hugged him in the most perfect way, accentuating every muscle and defined line of his body.  
Her eyes traveled back up to his face, meeting his stare. They looked at each other for a few seconds. Time seemed to stretch, as she watched his pupils dilate with something she was sure he could see mirrored in her own eyes. A shiver ran down her spine, traveling through her entire frame. 

"I guess this is goodbye," he said, his voice low and gravely. 

She should have said yes, maybe even nodded, but her brain seemed to have stopped working completely. Chloe stood there, swallowing dryly until her legs moved of their own volition. She closed the distance between them, his dark gaze never leaving her frame, watching attentively.   
Her right hand went to his shoulder. Under her palm, the fabric of his shirt was soft and scolding hot just like she thought his skin would be. Elevating herself on tiptoes, she touched his stubbly cheek with her lips. The stark contrast between her soft skin and the gritty texture of his beard made her shiver again.

"It was nice meeting you, Lucifer," she whispered, so close to his earlobe it might have looked like she was telling him her deepest secret. In a way, it felt like she was.

He exhaled sharply through his mouth, turning his head to face her. "Chloe," he murmured in return, their lips now mere inches apart. 

She wondered what would have happened if she just closed the distance between them and presses her mouth to his. Would his mouth feel as soft and smooth as it looked? Would he kiss her back? And if so, would it be nice and gentle, or rough and passionate? 

His hand went to her hip as if to try to prevent her from stepping back and escaping. Little did he know she had absolutely no intention to move.   
Her neck was arched almost painfully to be able to look at him in the eyes, and with a small movement, she put her lips on his and kissed him. 

Lucifer froze for a second, mouth slightly agape as the reality of what was happening dawned upon them both. It didn't take long for his free hand to find the back of her neck, his fingers intertwining with her soft waves as he crashed down on her. Chloe gasped and that gave him the access he needed to fill her mouth with his tongue, looking for hers. They found each other slowly at first, then the movements became more frantic, needy, their tongues almost battling. 

Her hands roamed across his body, feeling the toned lines of his muscles for the first time. They moved down his back, squeezing his butt involuntarily when he deepened the kiss even more. That made him chuckle, the sound vibrating through her like a shockwave. 

Something in the back of her head told her the elevator was about to stop at any given moment, opening just above the nightclub full of people. If that happened, she would need to leave. With that in mind — and her rationality completely thrown out the window — she pushed him away, gasping for air. The brown eyes that had been closed just a moment before stared back at her in utter confusion. Still trying to catch her breath, she stumbled to the other side of the elevator, pushing the emergency stop button and then the one for the last floor of the building. With a jolt, the machine came back to life and started going back up again.

Chloe looked at him, trying to decipher his expression. When he broke into a sly grin she relaxed a little before the weight of his body was on her, making her back collide with the metallic wall. They both moaned as their mouth connected again. This time she focused on the way his lips felt against hers, soft and plump, molding perfectly together. He tasted like the red wine they had been drinking, like whiskey and tobacco. 

With shaky fingers she found the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer to her. Her brain was fully disconnected, her actions going on autopilot, because had she stopped to think about what was actually about to go down between them she would have freaked herself out of it. The wild, sex-starved part of her wouldn't let that happen. 

That time around, the elevator seemed to skyrocket back up to his penthouse in tune with their eagerness. They stumbled out of it, still kissing and exploring each other's bodies. She was the one guiding him backward, blindly trying to reach whatever surface available where they could do it. The back of his knees hit something and she watched him almost crash onto the piano bench, breaking the fall with one hand which slammed on the keys. The piano protested, making an out-of-tune cry for help under the pressure of his palm. 

"So impatient," he murmured, breaking apart just enough to straighten himself. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, out of breath. 

Lucifer shook his head, cupping her face with both hands. "Don't be," he replied, bending his neck to place a small kiss on the left corner of her mouth. He moved to fully place his lips on her in a calm, gentle way. 

The frenzy that seemed to have taken over them was slowly dissipating, making them able to stop and enjoy the moment completely. Chloe hummed against his mouth, melting under his touch. Now completely flush against each other, she could feel the outline of his pant-covered erection pressing against her abdomen. She was wetter than ever, yet more arousal pooled between her legs. She clasped them together, trying to create some friction on her swollen clit demanding attention. 

He noticed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. One of his hands left her cheek, moving down her neck, then the side of her breast, stopping right above the hemline of her jeans. He popped the button open, pulling the zipper down in one swift move. Two fingers slid inside between the denim and the fabric of her soaked panties, his middle finger gliding across her clit.   
That was enough to make her cry out, the spot already so sensitive. He moved in small, slow circles as her eyes closed and her back arched against him.

Placing his mouth near her ear, he asked, "Is this better?"

 _Hell, yes_ , she wanted to answer but found herself unable to form a coherent sentence. The only sounds she could make were moans and sighs of pleasure under his expert ministrations.   
Nevertheless, she managed to re-open her eyes, catching him watch her fall apart before him lustily. Her trembling fingertips found the buttons of his waistcoat, undoing them one by one, successfully freeing him of the piece of clothing before she began to work on his shirt. 

Sculpted pecs peeked from behind the half-open button-down, confirming what she already thought about his body. His physique was athletic, so perfect it seemed carved in alabaster, but so smooth and warm to the touch. As she ripped the last few buttons in eagerness, chiseled abs came into view, making her roll her eyes. 

Lucifer seemed to catch that, moving down to suck on a particularly sensitive spot behind her ear. "What is it, Miracle?" 

She shivered at the mention of her nickname, basking in the way it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly. "Did you really need to have abs, too?" She asked, almost pouting. 

"Should I assume you don't like them?"

"No, I do. I really do," she admitted. Some small but insistent part of her wanted to find just one simple, tiny flaw to him, but there seemed to be none. How could she save herself from him, if he was that perfect? 

"Good," he said, his warm breath caressing her neck. 

With his free hand, he undid the buttons of her blouse, revealing the black lacy bralette underneath. Her pebbled nipples poked through the sheer fabric, making their presence known. His eyes seemed to darken even more, lust making his lids become heavy as his pupils grew wider. Lucifer dipped his head, catching her right, bra-covered nipple into his mouth and sucking gently on it. Chloe sighed loudly, arching her back further. He knew what he was doing, that was certain. 

Her fingers smoothed the hair on the nape of his neck. It was incredibly soft and silky, and she couldn't resist the urge to tighten the grip on it, making him whimper appreciatively.   
Lucifer came back up, putting some distance between them to help her out of the red blouse, then shrugging out of his own shirt. Both the items fell to the floor.

Chloe and Lucifer stood half-naked at the center of his penthouse, breathing heavily as they stared at each other. If there was a moment to stop — she tried to remind herself, rationalizing the situation — that was it. She could still say she had changed her mind, grab her shirt and go home, trying to forget about him. The sensible thing to do was taking that opportunity and run as fast as possible away from a man, something told her, was impossible to erase once he had gotten under her skin. _He's already there_ , she thought, as her heart thumped in her chest so hard it almost ached, _might as well enjoy the ride and hope you don't hurt yourself too bad when you fall off of it._

"Bedroom," she croaked and her voice sounded so unnaturally distorted with desire she barely recognized it.

He simply smiled down at her, extending a hand which she took in hers. Lucifer guided her towards the few steps leading to his bedroom, dimly lit with bed-side lamps. The walls surrounding it looked antique, in stark contrast with the more modern penthouse and its furniture. He seemed to like that style, the constant combination of modern and classic. Maybe it reflected him in a way. She couldn't really concentrate on the interior design, though. 

They climbed the small steps, stopping at the foot of his king-size bed. He walked a few steps in front of her and the light hit his back, reflecting off of it. Chloe couldn't stop a gasp escaping her.

"What happened to... My God!" She exclaimed, a hand flying to her mouth. 

Lucifer tensed, slowly turning his head to look at her. "Wha-" he began, then seemed to understand what she was talking about. "Oh, _oh_. Well, yes, I suppose it is his fault."

Her eyes stared at the huge scars on his back. They were almost the mirrored image of each other, running down most of his shoulders and back. They looked like he had been burned or, even worse, as if enormous parts of his skin had been carved out, leaving thick scars behind.

She blinked a few times, walking over to him. "Whose fault?" She asked.

"My Father."

Chloe's eyes widened in shock. "Your father did that to you?"

He shook his head. "No. That's where I cut my wings off. Well, _I_ didn't. Maze did. I told her to," he tried to explain. 

She was so appalled by the idea of someone doing that to him, she couldn't even bring herself to ask who Maze was. "Wings?" Chloe repeated almost automatically, moving one hand up to meet with the scarred flesh in front of her.

He flinched with his entire body, going still under her touch. Lucifer had even stopped breathing, and she could see his jaw tense up, clenched so tightly a muscle there was ticking. It was evident he didn't like being touched like that. 

"I'm sorry," she whisper, taking her hand off of him just as he was turning around. 

He shook his head but didn't utter a word. Their eyes met once more and there was torment in his, behind the thick veil of lust. She couldn't pry like that into something so personal if he wasn't ready to share it with her. Her hand moved up his bicep, trying to memorize the texture of his skin as she closed her eyes and lifted her head to kiss him once again. Lucifer relaxed under her touch, leaning against her. 

He found the back of her thighs and lifted her up, forcing her legs to circle his waist. While their mouths kept on devouring each other, he spun around and put one knee on the mattress, leaning down to place her on the bed. She propped herself back up on her elbows, watching as he descended to unzip her boots and discard them on the floor. He palmed her starting from the ankles, traveling up to caress her still-covered calves and thighs. In a very elegant motion, he tore the jeans off of her, which soon followed her shoes with a muffled thud.

The only things left on her body were her bralette and panties. Luckily she had decided to wear a sexy co-ordinate and not something more comfortable but surely less appealing. Not that she had planned on anything to happen, but better safe than sorry. Lace and mesh barely left anything to the imagination, and his hungry eyes roamed up and down her frame in appreciation. 

Lucifer placed a soft kiss on her protruding hip bone, moving downwards to nibble on the soft skin between her thigh and the wet panties. She heard him inhale deeply and couldn't help but flush, her face feeling hot with shame and a hint of arousal. His index finger moved the thin fabric of her panties aside, exposing her swollen sex to him. Chloe's breath hitched just as the tip of his tongue met her clit, making her drop on the mattress with a loud moan. He had barely done anything to her and she was already on the verge of coming undone. 

Knowing she wouldn't last long if he kept going, she let him lap at her a few more times before switching positions, taking advantage of his distraction. She had him pinned down between herself and the golden sheets in a second. He simply grinned at her, surrendering control without complaints. It didn't take long for Chloe to unbuckle his belt just as he kicked off his shoes without unlacing them, moving to free the button from its slot. She watched her fingers as they drag the zipper down and his erection sprung out of his dress pants. 

"No underwear?" She asked, biting her bottom lip, now plump and sensitive from making out. It was a stupid question, but she kind of felt the need to fill the silence at least a bit. 

Lucifer flashed her a cheeky grin. "I never wear it. I'm more of a commando kind of Devil," he replied.

She snorted, moving further down his body to remove his pants that soon followed the other items of clothing scattered on the pavement.   
As much as she was trying not to freak out about it, in all honesty his cock was — for lack of better words — huge; definitely the biggest one she had ever seen. Jed had been her first one and he was average in every way possible. After him, there had been a few one-night stands or casual relationships, a few of which had been girls, and she was sure those didn't count for penis references. Nothing compared to... _that_. The idea made her nervous, yet so excited she swore she could combust at any moment.

Trying not to freak out, she unclasped her bra and got rid of it, soon followed by her panties. They were both completely naked in front of each other. She could see him take her whole frame in, eyeing her lustily, his pupils blown out of proportion. Chloe wondered if he had looked at his screen just like that when she had put on a show for him. There was so much longing in his gaze it made her feel weak.

"Condom," she told him, sitting on the back of her legs as one hand moved to wrap around his shaft. 

He hissed as she pumped him a few times, getting accustomed to the way his large erection felt in the palm of her hand. Chloe had been on the pill for years now, but Lucifer's reputation as a man-whore proceeded him, so she wasn't about to be irresponsible and catch who knew what STD from him.  
Without so much as a word, he rolled over to his bedside drawer and extracted a small square of plastic. Taking it from him, she ripped the foil and extracted the condom to roll it down his long shaft. When it was secured in place, she went to straddle his lap, her wet folds covering his thick erection. 

One of his hands grabbed her hip firmly. "Are you sure about this?"

Chloe swallowed, then rocked her hips on him back and forth. "Just shut up," she murmured, bending down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. 

His other hand went to the back of her head, his fingers latching onto her hair as she took his girth in her hand and lowered herself on it, taking him in little by little. Gasping, she tried to adjust to his dimension. That was way more difficult than she was expecting. Lucifer stayed still, her forehead pressed on his while she controlled the depth of the penetration. At first, it hurt as he stretched her, almost unbearably, then the ache subsided and all she could feel was overwhelming fullness. They fit together perfectly, her chamber enveloping him completely while he filled her up to the brim. 

Once she had adjusted to him completely, she lifted her hips and slammed back down on his hard cock. They both moaned; his sounded more like a growl, a feral rumble that shook her to the very core. She was so slippery; even with his dimensions, he slid in and out of her tight pussy effortlessly. Every time their pubes met she ground down on him, creating friction for her aching clit.   
Lucifer caught up to it soon enough, sliding on hand between their bodies to rub on the soft bud at the apex of her sex while he kept her in place by the hip with his other hand. Chloe began moving frantically as her orgasm built up, back arched and eyes rolled backward in ecstasy. He was too good at it. How was she supposed to have sex with anyone else after that night?

"Chloe," he purred, her name sweet as honey coming from his mouth, "come for me, my little Miracle."

And she did. Chloe obeyed because there was nothing else in the entire universe for her to do. She climaxed around his erection, hips bucking furiously as she rode her orgasm and cried out his name like a prayer over and over. 

Once she had fully recovered, he sat up straight with his back against the headboard, moving in and out of her channel. Her pussy was still contracting around him, milking him relentlessly as if trying to force his own release. She bent forward, kissing him feverishly as she moved up and down his shaft, then went to suck on the conjunction between his neck and collarbone. With a strangled cry that sounded a lot like her name, Lucifer stilled inside of her, signaling his orgasm. He cupped her face with both his hands, kissing her long and hard until they had to come up for air.

Chloe waited for the regret to settle in, for the shame to take over her and make her want to run, but nothing of the sort ever came. If that was what mistakes felt like, she wanted to make more of them. 

Long after Lucifer had gotten rid of the condom and had spent a long time just cuddling in bed with her, she watched him fall asleep with her head pressed on his chest. His rhythmic breathing was lulling her to sleep, but she fought to stay awake. Maybe sleeping in his bed was not a good idea.   
When she tried to move though, one arm wrapped tightly around her waist, making it impossible for her to escape.

"Don't go," he groggily said, eyes still closed. 

She couldn't help but smile. "I should get going. I have class tomorrow," she whispered, moving some hair away from his forehead. 

"Just stay," he sighed, melting into her even more.

She bit her lip, moving to turn off the lamps, leaving them in complete darkness. Chloe did not want to leave, and that was not a good sign, but one she chose to ignore for the time being, closing her eyes and making herself more comfortable against his body.  
Was making one more mistake going to be so bad, after all? 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! First and foremost I want to say I'm sorry for not responding to comments on the last chapter. I read and appreciated every single one of them but I've been through quite a lot in the past few days and just couldn't do it. I hope you understand. 
> 
> This chapter opens with some cute morning after stuff and ends with... Well, you'll see how it ends.  
> Hope you enjoy x

Bright sunlight shone through the huge windows of Lucifer's penthouse when morning came, waking Chloe up.   
His body was still pressed against hers even though they had both moved during the night, shifting in their sleep. He was now spooning her, both arms wrapped tightly around her waist. One of his hands was on her lower abdomen, pressing her back flush against his front, making it impossible not to feel the way his erection was wedged between her butt cheeks.

Judging by his heavy breathing he was still fast asleep, blowing warm air on the nape of her neck when he exhaled. His body was unbearably hot though, and she was feeling sweaty and almost uncomfortable in his embrace now.   
Chloe moved slowly, trying to not wake him up as she reached over to the wristwatch she had taken off before falling asleep and put on the nightstand. It was seven-thirty in the morning. Apparently, her internal clock wouldn't let her sleep-in that morning. She sighed, rubbing her eyes one-handed. 

There was no way she could fall back asleep, especially now that she felt so warm and clammy against him. Trying to be as gentle as possible, she grabbed his left arm by the wrist and pulled it off of her, successfully escaping his hold. Lucifer didn't seem to notice her absence, snoring softly into the pillow. As she watched him, Chloe couldn't help but think how ridiculous he was when referring to himself as the Devil, while he looked so much like an angel with his eyes closed and his features completely relaxed. There was so much beauty behind the club-owning-playboy mask he liked to wear all the time. Or maybe her brain was tricking her into seeing something that wasn't there.

Either way, she was in desperate need of a shower. She got off the bed and walked towards the back of his bedroom, entering a space that looked like a huge walk-in closet. There was no doubt he was outrageously rich. Everything in his place screamed wealth. Catching a glimpse of another door in the far end of the room, she walked past closets and shelves full of what she was sure were designer clothes and finally entered the bathroom.   
It wasn't too big, but in perfect accord with the rest of the decor. The tiles had a sand-colored wood design, creating a perfect contrast with the white bathroom fixtures and silver chromed details. The shower occupied an entire wall, the glass door going from one side of the room to the other. 

Chloe found some clean towels in the cabinet under the sink. They smelled like expensive fabric softener, and she wondered if he had someone take care of the place for him. She couldn't imagine Lucifer doing laundry or cleaning the place, but the entire penthouse looked pristine and squeaky clean, so someone must have been doing those things. Of course, when you're _that_ rich, you don't need to worry about house chores. Even her family had a maid when she was younger, and they didn't exactly swim in pools of money, but between her mother's acting gigs and her father's job, they could afford it. 

She examined the shower for a few moments, trying to understand how to make it work. It looked as sophisticated as it was expensive. Once she seemed to have figured out the way to set the right heat, she stepped into the shower and under the water spray. The change in temperature made her shiver. She let the water coat her entire self, turning her face up as she closed her eyes to wash away the remainings of the previous night's makeup. When sufficiently soaked, she grabbed a bottle of shampoo and poured a dollop into her palm, lathering it into her hair and massaging her scalp in circular motions. She did the same thing with the body wash, spreading it on every inch of her skin. When she slipped a hand between her thighs, a whimper escaped her mouth, making her head drop. Only at that moment, she noticed how sore she felt, her center aching after having been stretched by his impressive girth. Surprisingly she didn't mind. It didn't really hurt, but her flesh felt tender and sensitive. 

After spending way too much time under the cool shower drizzle, fully clean and soap-free, she decided to get out and dry herself. She wrapped the biggest towel around her body and a smaller one on her head like a turban. At the sink, she washed off some stubborn mascara that had refused to come off in the shower and — since she didn't have a toothbrush — decided to swirl some mouthwash around in order to get rid of morning breath. She would brush her teeth at home later. 

Had she not physically been inside Lucifer Morningstar's penthouse, she would have thought the night's events to be a dream. A very realistic one, but a dream nevertheless. It all seemed so surreal. Yet, she wasn't regretting any of it. For the first time in weeks, she had been honest with someone, opening herself up in a way she rarely ever did. Perhaps he was right about them having a _connection_ , but she couldn't explain why and wasn't about to make a one-night stand a big deal. 

The way he had treated her was curious, though. She didn't peg him to be the kind of guy who cuddled in bed after sex or asked the other person not to leave. It clashed with his colder, playboy persona everyone seemed to be talking about when referring to him. Nothing was as it looked when it came to him, apparently. 

When she was completely dry and had blotted most of the excess water out of her hair, she wandered back into his walk-in closet. Within the seemingly infinite shirts hanged in the closet, she found a white one, simple and elegant. That too smelled freshly laundered, yet she could sense a more pungent and masculine aroma on it. It smelled like him. She grabbed it, feeling the fabric under her fingertips, and put it on. It basically looked like a dress on her, hanging loosely just below her butt. She did the buttons, leaving the first few open, and then walked to the bedroom.

She expected to see him still laying on the bed, but he wasn't there. Frowning, she took a few more steps and peeked around the wall, getting a view of his living room area. There he was, with his back to her, wearing what looked like red silk pajama pants with no shirt. In the morning light, his scars seemed even more prominent. They weren't recent, judging by the way they looked, and she still couldn't understand why someone would do that to themselves. He had basically told her he'd asked someone to inflict those on him. Was he so far gone in his delusion about being the Devil that he would harm himself for it? She hoped not, but all signs pointed that way.

Too engrossed in something else, Lucifer didn't appear to have noticed her presence, so she cleared her throat. He turned his head around, his eyes illuminating at the sight of her and smiling, making her heart skip a beat. _Not a good sign_ , she thought. _Pull yourself together, Chloe_.

"Good morning," he said in that way-too-sexy British accent of his.

"Good morning, Lucifer," she replied, walking over to him. 

He stood next to the bar, phone in hand and opened on a food delivery app. "I thought I should have made you breakfast while you were in the shower, but since I do not own a kitchen I resorted to ordering instead," he explained. "What would you like?"

"You're suggesting we should have breakfast? Together?" She couldn't help the surprised tone in her voice.

"I'm not suggesting, I'm stating that," he replied in his matter-of-fact way. "Now, what should I order? I'm starving," he prompted her.

She blinked a few times, trying to think rationally. Was he like this whit everyone he had sex with? Was it normal for him to sleep with people, cuddle with them, and have breakfast together the next morning before sending them on their merry way? "I'll, uh... I'll have a tall, non-fat almond milk latte with sugar-free caramel drizzle," she replied, reciting her usual but complicated order.

Lucifer looked at her almost horrified. "Deary me, that is the farthest thing from a coffee I have ever heard!" He exclaimed, huffing out a laugh. 

"What? I like sweet things," she shrugged.

"I wonder how you haven't ended up in a diabetic coma yet." She rolled her eyes as he typed in her order, then added, "lemon bar?"

"You remembered?" Chloe asked, incredulity dripping from her words. She had only casually mentioned it in one of their early streams and it genuinely surprised her he hadn't forgotten such a small detail.

"Devil's in the details, I guess," he said as if that meant nothing. 

"I'll have one, thanks."

"Good, and I will get my coffee the only way it should be taken, an espresso, and waffles," he mumbled almost to himself, finishing his order and sending it in. "The coffee shop is right around the corner, breakfast should be here any minute," he then informed her.

She nodded, toying with the cuff of his shirt. Only then Lucifer seemed to notice her impromptu outfit, eyes scanning her entire figure up and down.

"Is that one of my shirts?"

"Well, I didn't have any clean clothes so I thought..."

"It looks marvelous on you. _You_ look marvelous," he said, his eyes looking like endless pits of melted chocolate as he spoke. 

Heat crept up Chloe's neck and her face felt suddenly too hot, making her aware her cheeks must have turned pink. "Thank you," was the only thing she managed to get out in a whisper.

She moved away from him, trying to straighten her thoughts. Chloe wasn't shy or insecure about herself, so the way she acted around Lucifer didn't make sense in the slightest. She'd had crushes in the past — not that she would ever admit having a crush on him — but had never felt quite so awkward around any of them. Confidence was something she didn't lack, yet she acted like a scared teenager on her first experience with him and she didn't like the feeling at all. 

"So, uh... who's Maze?" She asked almost casually, and he frowned at the mention of that name. 

"Maze is a long-time friend of mine, we go way back. Why do you ask?"

Chloe shrugged, gesturing towards his back. "You mentioned her yesterday when talking about those... you know," she didn't finish her sentence, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. 

"Oh," Lucifer nodded, understanding in his expression. "She came with me when I decided to leave Hell for good. You might have seen the little demon, she tends the bar now."

She bit her lip, trying to hide a nervous smile. "Let me guess. Dark skin, curly hair, and extremely scary-looking? Like, _I'm gonna kill you just by staring at you_ scary?" Chloe asked.

A genuine laugh escaped his mouth. "That sounds an awful lot like Mazikeen."

At that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if there had been anything between them in the past. Chloe had noticed the way Maze was looking at her the few times she had been to Lux. That woman seemed to hate her without even knowing her at all, so what could the reason be, if not some unfinished business between her and Lucifer? Maybe it was best if she just didn't know.

Focusing on anything but him, she got closer to the piano, gliding her fingertips over the smooth and shiny surface. "So, I heard you play downstairs sometimes," she tried to strike up a different conversation. 

He nodded, leaning against the edge of the counter. "I do, whenever I'm in the mood to put up a show."

She rolled her eyes. Of course he'd do that, liking the attention way too much, she was sure. 

"I guess I'll have to stick around for the next time you feel like playing, then," she said casually and instantly wanted to kick herself for being so stupid. Suggesting seeing each other again was not a good idea, and lately she had too many of those.

"You will probably have to," he replied just as nonchalantly. "Do you play?"

She let out a short, dry laugh, rounding the piano to go sit on the bench. "Uh, no. No, I don't," she admitted, puckering her lips in an apologetic grimace. 

"Come on, you must know something," Lucifer insisted, raising his eyebrows, and a small wrinkle formed on his forehead.

"No," she repeated, but Lucifer eyed her with skepticism. "Uh... All right, well... Let me see. I had three years of lessons and this is all I remember," she gave in eventually, lifting her right hand to hover on the keys and start playing the few notes she could remember of _Heart and Soul_.

Chloe heard him chuckle as he walked over to where she was and sat beside her on the piano bench. "Surely, you must be joking," he said.

She looked up at him through the thick lashes framing her eyes and shook her head no, a small grin stretching her lips. He smiled back at her, cracking his knuckles lazily before gesturing for her to start playing the song from the beginning. 

"All right," he murmured, and when she did hit the first few keys, he followed her making the music a thousand times nicer.

His fingers moved gracefully on the piano, performing like he was a professional. Watching him closely, she could see how much he liked playing and how serene he looked while doing it. Sure, the song was nothing special — a beginner's piece anyone could play, included her — but he was able to bring it to life in a way she'd never seen anyone do before.   
Their eyes met briefly and she suddenly understood what people meant when they talked about feeling butterflies in their stomachs. Everything inside her trembled for a second, making her feel dizzy. 

That was even worse than she could have ever imagined. She was too far gone and had absolutely no idea how to stop it. 

When the song ended, he put one hand over hers. "See? That wasn't so bad," he said, and she had absolutely no idea about what to answer. Her mouth felt too dry and her brain wasn't functioning properly. 

As if on cue, she _ding_ of the elevator broke their spell and a young guy with foam coffee cups and a paper bag in hand called out, "Mr. Morningstar?"

"Yes," he replied, his eyes still fixed on hers before he walked to his bedroom to get some money. "Keep the change," he added once the boy had handed over their order, and Chloe saw Lucifer slip him a fifty-dollar bill. The delivery guy looked a bit dazzled but thanked him and went away.

"That was quite the tip," she commented, getting up from the bench to follow him on a couch. 

He opened the paper bag and extracted her lemon bar, which she eagerly took from him, then a plate with steaming-hot waffles and a plastic fork. He put it down on the glass table with their drinks. 

"Oh, that really isn't a big deal for me," he shrugged. 

_Of course it isn't_ , she thought, biting into the creamy dessert. She moaned aloud as her tastebuds exploded with the sweet and slightly tangy flavor. He shot her an amused look.

"What?" She asked through a mouthful of lemon bar.

It looked as if it was taking him all his strength not to start laughing right in her face. "Nothing."

Could someone be so nice but also infuriating at the same time? Lucifer Morningstar was the epitome of it.  
He began cutting into the waffle with the sharp edge of the plastic fork, eating slowly as she practically inhaled her breakfast. She hadn't realized how hungry she was until that first bite. After that, she took the larger coffee cup and started sipping on her latte, watching him in between each swig. 

"So... do you have plans for the evening?" Lucifer asked after a few minutes of silence, still looking down at his plate.

Taken aback, brows furrowed in confusion, she blurted out, "Why?"

He chewed on another bit of his breakfast, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. "I would like to see you again," he stated.

Chloe's eyes widened. "Are you asking me out?" That morning was getting more and more confusing with each passing minute. "Like, on a date?"

Lucifer put the fork down, finally lifting his gaze up to hers. "Yes. I'd like to take you out for dinner. That's what you humans usually do on dates, isn't it?" 

She snorted. " _Us_ humans? And what planet are you from, London?" 

"Not exactly, although I've lived there for short periods of time. Originally I'm from the Silver City — it's what you would usually call Heaven or Paradise — but if we're talking more recently, then I would say Hell," he replied with such a straight face she almost believed him.

"You're insane," she just said, taking a bigger sip of her beverage. 

"Is that a no?"

"I..." she sighed, biting on her bottom lip. "I don't know. I mean, why would you want to go on a date with me?" She questioned him. The sole idea sounded impossible and dangerous for her, the risk of getting more attached becoming stronger the more time they spent together. 

"For the same exact reason why I wanted to talk to you in the first place. I find you fascinating, interesting, and I would like to know you better," he replied. 

"Not because you expect me to have sex with you again?"

He shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, that was... incredible, truly. But it never was my priority with you," he explained. 

"You keep on surprising me," Chloe admitted, letting out a light puff of air. A part of her wanted to run as fast as possible and forget about everything, while the other begged for her to just give him a chance and see where this would go. It scared her but also felt excited like she hadn't in a long time.

"Hope I'm surprising in positive ways."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, giving him a playful push. He barely moved from the spot. "Fine. I'll have dinner with you," she consented.

"Brilliant," he smiled at her and they both finished their breakfast in comfortable silence. 

* * *

With her head resting against the car window, Chloe watched the city of Los Angeles move before her eyes.   
After talking some more about the details of their date — Lucifer had suggested he drove to her place to pick her up and get to a nice restaurant just outside the city — she had finally gotten dressed and ready to go. He had suggested keeping his shirt on, but it would have looked way too weird, so she just put on the clothes from the night before. Then, he had accompanied her downstairs and out on the street, opening the cab door for her so she could sit inside. She had waved awkwardly at him, unsure of what to do, and he had done the same with a soft smile on his face.

Now her thoughts were occupied solely by him and nothing else. Her brain kept on making her relive the previous night's events, their conversations, and the mind-blowing sex that had followed. She thought about how thoughtful he had been when suggesting they got breakfast together and how comfortable she felt around him.   
On paper, Lucifer was not her type at all. He was too out there, not to mention an incorrigible playboy with some sort of delusion about being the Devil, yet she felt safe with him, almost like they were always meant to be friends. 

If she had to describe the sense of security he gave her, the closest thing she had was her relationship with Ella. Of course, she didn't want to sleep with her best friend, but she felt the same deep-rooted connection she had with her. The two were different on so many levels yet more similar than she would have thought. 

The drive home gave her a lot of time to think about everything. Chloe had made the decision to just go with it and take whatever came out of their relationship — whatever that was. Putting her heart on the line was still something she wasn't entirely comfortable doing and would keep her reserves on him for sure, but she was willingly taking a risk and hoping for the best. 

When she was finally outside her apartment, she thanked the driver and walked toward the door, which swung open as she tried to grab her keys.

"You, young lady, are in big trouble."

Chloe tried to stifle a laugh but was unsuccessful. "And you sound so much like my mother it's creepy," she told Ella, walking past her and into the apartment. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Weren't you supposed to come home last night?" Ella retorted, following her down the corridor with her arms crossed over her chest. 

"I had a... change of plans."

Ella sighed. "You could have at least sent a message to tell me you weren't getting brutally murdered, you know."

Chloe shot her an apologetic look. "You're right, I'm sorry. I was just so caught up in everything I didn't think about it," she admitted. 

"I figured you were getting your guts rearranged, one way or another."

"Ella!" She squealed, eyes bulging out. "That's too much even for your standards," she laughed and her best friend followed suit.

"What? I'm not wrong," the girl replied, shrugging a shoulder. "But the only way I'm ever forgiving you is by telling me everything in the tiniest, most gory detail, so start spilling," she urged Chloe to speak.

She rolled her eyes. "Can I at least change into clean clothes?"

"Nope," her friend replied, popping the P between her lips, "but I can give you coffee if you need to recharge," she added then.

"No thanks, I've already had my daily dose of caffeine."

Ella's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "He made you breakfast?" 

"Well, he didn't exactly _make_ it, but he ordered it from a coffee shop. I mean, it's not a big deal," she shrugged. 

"In my personal experience, one-night stands don't make nor order breakfast," she pointed out. 

"Jeez, can I at least sit down, officer?" Chloe playfully flipped her the middle finger, moving towards the couch in the living room. "Are you sure you want to become a forensic scientist? Your interrogation skills might come in handy in the police department," she joked. 

Ella was right behind her, sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of Chloe. "Stop averting my questions."

"See? You sound so much like a cop," she insisted, but the brunette shot her a cut-the-bullshit look, making her huff. "Fine, I'll talk. What do you want to know?"

"Everything, duh!"

"Okay, so we spent most of the night talking, at least at first. He was very understanding, he even suggested signing an NDA if that made me more comfortable with the Cherry Jane situation and all. And then, when I was about to leave I realized I just... I didn't want to," she admitted, biting down on her still a little swollen bottom lip. "I kissed him, and before I realized what was happening we were taking each other's clothes off."

"Were you drunk?" Ella asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

Chloe shook her head. "No, not at all. I made the decision to sleep with him and honestly I don't regret it," she shrugged. 

"So is it true what they say?"

"And what would that be?"

One of her friend's brows arched. "That he's the best night of your life."

"It was good," she said almost non-committally, but her friend eyed her with skepticism. "Okay, fine, he's incredibly good in bed. Happy?"

"Well, yes. I'm happy you finally got some action, chica. You deserve it," she said and Chloe could tell she was being sincere. "Oh, my God! It's big, isn't it?"

"What?" She asked perplexed. 

"His dick is big. I can tell by the look on your face. How big is it?" She asked, putting both hands in front of her and moving them further apart little by little. "Tell me when to stop."

"I'm not telling you how big his dick is, you freak!" Chloe laughed almost hysterically, taking Ella's hands between her own. 

She pouted. "You're such a buzzkill."

"And you're a weirdo," Chloe retorted. "He asked me out on a date," she admitted slowly. 

"He what now?"

"He wanted to take me out for dinner and I might have said yes."

Ella's expression softened. "Oh, baby. You like each other, that's so sweet."

"I don't really know what this is, so don't start planning our wedding just yet, alright?"

"Don't rain on my parade," Ella said, making a face. "I already have a ship name for you: Deckerstar. Doesn't that sound perfect?" She asked.

"What a nerd," Chloe replied, chuckling. "Remind me why we're friends again?"

"Because I'm awesome," Ella stuck out her tongue. "Oh, I almost forgot. There's another envelope for you. I found it this morning on our doorstep, so I left it on your desk," she informed her.

"Really? That's weird," she murmured, getting up from the couch. "I really need to change into some clean clothes now. I'll talk to you later, okay?" She told her friend and moved to reach her room, not registering her friend's response. 

She had to look at what was inside that folder and she had to do it now.

In the past few weeks, she hadn't been able to make a lot of progress on her father's murder case. When she thought the truth was finally within reach, she would hit a wall and have to start from square one. Something — some vital information — was missing in those files. 

Admittedly she hadn't been in the best mental state to work on that case. She had spent way too much time thinking about Lucifer, missing him, to the point she couldn't physically bring herself to sit down at her desk and try to make connections and theories that made any sense. He had monopolized her attention, making it impossible for her to focus on more important matters.   
Now that some of her problems with him were solved though, she could concentrate on what really mattered.

The folder on her desk looked similar to the one she had received the first time. Yellow and with her name scribbled in black marker on it, the Manila envelope seemed to stare right back at her as she entered the room. Chloe closed the door behind her, then sat down on the chair positioned in front of her desk, where the other files were stacked in a pile.   
This envelope was smaller, flatter. It looked like there could have been nothing inside it at all. 

She picked it up and ripped the lid open, sticking her left hand inside. She felt around it, her hand reaching the bottom of the folder until the tips of her fingers hit something hard and plasticky. Wrapping her fingers around it, she took it out and examined the small object. It was a flash drive, black and completely anonymous. It could have belonged to anyone. 

Grabbing her laptop, she opened the lid and waited impatiently for it to start running, tapping her fingers on the cold surface of the desk while the other hand gripped the object tightly. Once the computer was fully turned on, she inserted the USB stick inside the slot.   
A window popped open on her screen, showing an almost empty storage except for three files. They were all videos, named _Evidence 1,_ _Evidence 2_ and _Confession_. 

A chill ran down Chloe's spine. Was she really about to solve her father's murder? Could she actually be in possession of real evidence? It didn't seem real, yet there she was, staring at the files just waiting for her to open them. And so she did, dragging her middle finger across the trackpad until the cursor was hovering above the first file. Her breath hitching inside her throat, she double-clicked on it and the player window opened in front of her. 

Her stomach dropped as she recognized the two people in the video. One was a slightly younger version of Perry Smith, his face showing two or three years less than the last photo she had been able to find of him. The other man she knew all too well. Lucifer was sitting on one of the booths as Lux, arms sprawled on either side of the backrest, his legs crossed casually. There was no audio to the video, but the two men seemed to be talking about something important by the look of Smith's face. Lucifer's expression was as peaceful as ever, a small, lopsided grin plastered on his face. He was nodding at something the other was saying, and when they shook hands the video cut off. 

How did the two of them know each other? And how was it possible that, while Perry Smith had seemed to age even if just a little, Lucifer looked exactly the same?   
What she could tell was that, somehow, she was now in possession of Lux's security camera footage. 

Her hand trembling, heart pounding inside her throat, she moved to open the second video. That too had no audio, and the set was still exactly the same. This time, in addition to Lucifer and Smith, some other people were sitting around the same table. Lucifer was making presentations by the looks of it, his charming manners evident even through a screen. Chloe knew those people were from the Russian Mob. They had been in the files she had received before. He looked so at ease, unbothered, even surrounded by criminals of the worst kind, as though he was one of them. 

Her stomach churned at the thought. The sight made her feel so sick it was almost unbearable but she had to power through it. Finding the truth was the only thing that mattered.

As soon as the second video ended, she clicked on the last file. There was static at first, then Perry Smith's face came into view. He was sitting behind a desk in what looked like an office. She knew he was now a deputy prison warden, so that didn't surprise her at all. His concerned expression did. He looked tense, his forehead shining with sweat. 

"So, to what do I owe your visit?" He asked, looking to someone who was evidently behind the camera.

"You still owe my boss something, don't you remember?" Said a husky female voice.

Smith gulped. "And who would your boss be?"

A bitter chuckled echoed through the speakers of Chloe's laptop. "Don't pretend like you don't know. Lucifer Morningstar granted you a favor and I'm here to collect the debt," she replied.

"Yes, uh... Of course," he nodded, loosening the knot on his tie. "I'm really grateful for the connections he gave me. What can I do for him?"

The woman sighed and Chloe could tell even without seeing her she was pretending to ponder something. "You see, a few years ago a police officer was murdered during a robbery. Does John Decker ring a bell?"

Chloe's eyes watered at the mention of her father's name. Who was she and how did she know about him? She had a very bad feeling, her entire body feeling weak and jittery. 

When Smith didn't answer, she continued. "All my boss is asking for is to know who killed him," she said, her voice a low, even tone. "And before you mention it, we won't go to the police. This is just for a... personal purpose," she added.

"I... God," his shoulders sagged. He looked scared, as if the woman in front of him was a dangerous one, even scarier than the Russian Mob. "One day this Decker guy starts making comments about me, throwing assumptions, threatening me to expose my ties to the mob. What was I supposed to do?" His voice raised a few octaves as his body shook. "I tried to bribe him but he wouldn't budge, so I killed him. I did what I had to do. Then the Mob helped me cover the whole mess up, paid Joe Fields off so he would take the fall for me."

Chloe somehow found the strength to hit the pause button before sprinting off to the bathroom. Her knees hit the tiles hard as she crouched over the toilet and threw up the contents of her stomach. She stayed there for what felt like an eternity, heaving, tears streaming down her cheeks and soaking up her blouse. Her insides kept on clenching painfully until there was nothing left inside of her to be expelled. There was only grief and sorrow, and a hollow sensation that made her want to curl on the bathroom floor and never get up again. It hurt too much. _Please, let this all be a nightmare_ , she thought through the fog inside her brain. _Don't let it be real._

Finally, she got up and rinsed her mouth, walking back to the desk on wobbly legs. She sat down again, unable to stand for more than a few seconds, then hit the play button again.

"So let me get this straight, you killed officer John Decker?"

Perry Smith nodded. "I did. I had to. You understand it, right?"

The female voice laughter and it made Chloe's stomach clench again. "Oh, I do. My boss will be very happy to know about that. Consider your debt paid off," she said, then the screen became blank. 

Chloe wanted to scream. She wanted to pick up her laptop and throw it against a wall, to destroy everything around her until she was surrounded by nothing but devastation and debris, because that was what she felt on the inside.   
Perry Smith had killed her father because he knew about his connection to the Mob. The same connections that had come from Lucifer, a man she had been falling for and who apparently would be very pleased to know her entire life had gone to shambles because of it. He had probably known about it all along. Maybe he had been thinking about what a stupid, clueless bitch she was while he fucked her. She had opened her heart to him and he had taken it and ripped the poor thing to shreds. 

He was the reason her father was dead. Lucifer Morningstar was the reason for every single wrong thing in her life, but she would make sure he wouldn't hurt anyone else as he had done with her. 

He was the begging of every ugly and dirty thing inside her but she would be his end. Chloe would be the one to make him realize just now true it was that _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I needed an end not on this one haha.  
> Feel free to insult me in the comments, I probably deserve it but, after that, bear with me. It's gonna be okay. Hopefully.  
> See you in five days ;)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! First of all, I'm sorry. I said I was gonna do better and answer your comments but proceeded to do absolutely nothing. I feel extra guilty but I've also been working a new fanfiction while revisioning this one and I barely have any time left to have a resemblance of life outside of the internet. Hope you can understand. 
> 
> If you hated me at the end of last chapter, boy oh boy, buckle up. You're in for a ride. But trust the process, you'll not be disappointed - if I do say so myself. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll see you at some point next week, because I unfortunately can't keep up with the 5 days thingy :/   
> Love ya x

Nothing. She could feel absolutely nothing. 

After her initial shock and the emotional breakdown that had followed, Chloe was left numb. She couldn't even feel the pain anymore. It was like she was experiencing everything from the outside, watching herself go through the motions without actually being the one doing them. She wasn't there. Her mind was blank and silent.

She had closed the window on her laptop screen, extracting the flash drive before putting it into a drawer of her desk. Then, taking all her clothes off as if in slow-motion, she had gotten into the shower and sat directly onto the shower tray while the water poured down on her. For a second she hoped to drown so she didn't have to face the consequences of what she had seen, of what she now knew. She simply stayed there, hugging her knees to her chest, shivering under the cold water. 

Chloe hadn't wanted to relax, no. That freezing shower was her way of both punishing and absolving herself. She deserved to feel awful because of her stupidity and how it had put everything she had worked hard for in jeopardy, but also needed to wash out the memory of his body touching hers. It wasn't _entirely_ her fault.   
She tried to ignore the ache between her thighs — a reminder that just a few hours before, under a different water pour, had made her feel aroused — but it seemed to grow stronger the more she tried to shove it in the back of her head. 

How could have she been so blind? Did she honestly think someone like him would like her for real? _I have connections_ , he had told her on multiple occasions, so that probably meant he had known who she was for a long time. He knew everything about her family and had pretended not to just to get inside her pants and destroy whatever possible. That made way more sense than actually believing he would ever feel a connection with her. How stupid and pathetic. 

After a while, shivering uncontrollably, she had gotten out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Not bothering to dry herself, she had reached her bed and curled onto it. That should have been her cue to cry. Her brain kept on telling her it would happen any moment, and then the sobs and the screams would follow, but it never happened. She had just stayed there, balled on herself, staring at the white, damp towel which slowly soaked up her sheets. Her hair was still dripping wet and she could tell her pillow was getting drenched too, but she didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. 

She couldn't tell how much time had passed from the moment she had gotten out of the shower to the one in which she was dressing herself. Her body moved of its own volition, as if on auto-pilot, making her grab the first clean clothes she had come across to put on her body. Somewhere within herself — and Chloe couldn't tell where if she tried — she found the strength to blow-dry her hair and pull it up in a tight ponytail. Her hair was pulled back so slickly it hurt her scalp, making her temples throb. Still, it felt oddly comforting. The pain meant she could still at least feel one sensation at all. She wasn't fully dead, not yet.

She brushed her teeth and put on some makeup, pretending she was getting ready for a date that was never happening. He would see her that night, that was certain, just not the way he expected to. When she looked in the full-length mirror, Chloe thought someone else was staring back at her for a second. They looked eerily similar, yet so different. The spark in her eyes was gone, the flame burning bright and illuminating everything around her long extinguished. It was like reliving her father's funeral all over again, except this time she knew there would be some closure. 

The girl in the mirror was wearing dark denim jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket in the same color. Combat boots completed the look and, even in her state, she could sense the irony of the situation. Since she was going to war, she might as well do it in the right attire.

She walked over to where her usual purse was, rummaging through it to find something she had never thought of using before. Her mother had given it to her when she had moved out, claiming girls nowadays needed protection. _Better safe than sorry_ , her mother had told her, and she remembered thinking she wouldn't really need another weapon once she would finally get into the police and have her own gun. That moment was still far away in the future, though. Her fingers finally felt the small object and curled around it, taking it out of the bag. The small pocket knife stood in the palm of her hand, almost glaring at her, so she shoved it inside her jacket.  
With shaky hands, she grabbed her phone and opened the Uber app to schedule a ride.

Thankfully, by the time she had gotten out of her room, Ella had left the house for some afternoon lessons. She briefly wondered why her friend had not tried to make her go too, then realized maybe she had and Chloe had simply not heard her at all. Being a bad friend was another thing to add to the list of things that were wrong with her. She apparently had no sense of judgment anymore, her usual gut feeling wasn't working, she was falling for someone connected to her father's murder _and_ she was an awful friend.  
Ella deserved way better. She couldn't help but wonder what her friend would have thought about her plan of going to a possibly dangerous person's home all alone and unprotected. Fortunately — or unfortunately, she couldn't tell which — Ella wasn't there to give her opinion. Not that it would have mattered anyway. Once her mind was set, there was nothing and no one capable of stopping her. 

For the third time in the span of less than twenty-four hours, Chloe took the ride that would take her to his place. She had been nervous the previous evening as they drove down the exact same road, and she felt anxious now too, but for entirely different reasons. The excitement was no longer there. There was nothing left inside her except for sorrow and hatred. 

She sat still, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Usually, she would look out the window and get lost in the landscape, imagining the lives of strangers walking down different paths. She didn't do that. Chloe stared blankly at a vague point on the windshield until her vision became blurry and everything blended together, making it impossible for her to distinguish houses or people. Her right hand was inside the pocket of her leather jacket, fingers wrapped spasmodically around the small knife. The more she tightened her grip around it, the more the object seemed to burn inside her hand. It was all in her head, but she swore it would leave an imprint — a nasty scar like the ones on his back. 

Chloe wasn't going there with the intention to kill him, no. She wanted him to rot in prison for as long as he lived with the other people who had caused his father's death, but he was way stronger than her and she needed some sort of protection. If it ever came to it she would need something to defend herself with. And yet, she felt like she was about to do something that would change her life forever. Again, she was lying to herself. The truth was she wouldn't hesitate from killing him if her own life was in danger. It would simply mean one less dangerous man out in the streets.

Time seemed to speed up inside the Uber and before she could ever realize they were parked outside of Lux. It took a few seconds for her to register the driver was talking to her, asking for a five-star review she couldn't have cared less about. She nodded in agreement, getting out of the car without a word. Her eyes were fixed on the unsupervised entrance. There was probably no need for bodyguards so early in the afternoon and that played to her advantage. 

When she tried to move, her legs almost failed her and she stumbled on the sidewalk. She seemed cemented to the ground, as if she was experiencing Earth's gravity for the first time. Her legs felt made out of lead, heavy and rigid, but she had to power through it. There was no other option.  
She willed herself into motion and was finally able to enter the empty and silent nightclub. Without the usual colored lights, it looked like a very sophisticated bar, the kind where people from the upper-class would meet and drink. It wasn't. Just like its owner, it was all a façade, a perfectly constructed lie that would sooner or later crumble into dust leaving nothing behind.

A few employees were cleaning up and restocking the bar for later that night, so she tried to move slowly, soundlessly, hoping she wouldn't get caught sneaking to the elevator.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" 

Chloe recognized the voice instantly. It was burned inside her brain, loud and clear, so much so that her stomach churned at the memory. She knew to whom it belonged before even turning around. 

Her brain hadn't made the connection between the faceless voice and the scary-looking bar-lady she had seen at Lux the previous times, but now it was so painfully obvious.   
She turned around, faking an innocent smile, hands up in mock surrender.

"Hi. Sorry, I'm here to see Lucifer," she said, trying to sound as calm and sugary sweet as possible.

The dark-skinned woman arched an eyebrow, arms crossed over her chest. "Why?"

"I, uh..." she mumbled, "I was at his place last night and I forgot a few things when I left this morning," she ended up saying.

Maze — she remembered him telling her the woman's name that morning — looked at her like she didn't believe a word that came out of her mouth. "He's not here now," she said in a flat tone. 

Chloe's lips pressed together in a thin line. "I'll just wait for him," she shrugged, hoping her years of acting would end up being useful, "in his penthouse."

The woman almost looked disgusted with her as she slowly licked her top lip in a way that made her insides clench. "Suit yourself," she sneered and with that turned around and walked away.

Chloe's shoulders nearly sagged with relief, but she tried to keep her composure as she finally reached the elevator and got inside of it. After a little while, the doors swooshed open onto an evidently empty penthouse.   
Where was he? Was he out there, busy in who knew what illicit affair? Was he getting someone else murmured? She had absolutely no idea about what he was capable of. 

She checked the whole place out just to be sure and when it was certain there was no one around, she relaxed a little and got back to the living room. For all she knew, it could have taken him hours to get back, but she was willing to wait. Almost absent-mindedly she got behind the bar and took a clean crystal glass, grabbing a bottle of vodka that looked way too expensive and pouring some of the contents inside. Day drinking was not her thing, yet she felt like it was somehow necessary for that situation. 

Chloe took a swig and winced, hating the taste of straight alcohol on her tongue and the strong burn in her throat. Still, she poured some more and went to sit on the armchair with her legs crossed and her back reclined, waiting for the moment the elevator would slide open and finally reveal him.

* * *

Time moves in ways that are difficult to understand. Sometimes an hour can pass by in the blink of an eye, other times the minutes stretch in such a way that makes you feel like each second will never end.

Chloe didn't know how much time she had spent waiting for him to show up, nursing her glass of neat, warm vodka. Her head had started to throb at some point and she had closed her eyes just a moment to hopefully make it go away.   
Then after a few minutes — or hours, God only knew — the _ding_ of the elevator jolted her back into reality, making her sit upright. The almost empty glass nearly slipped out of her hand but she quickly caught it, sliding it carefully on the coffee table close to her.

He didn't notice her presence at first. Whistling a tune she didn't recognize, he strode into the penthouse while he adjusted his cufflinks. He looked content, relaxed. What on earth was he so chirpy about? The entire world around her had collapsed, leaving nothing but pain and destruction. And yet there he was, smiling as if the world had not just ended and he was not the reason behind it. 

A surge of vicious anger overcame her at once as she watched him nonchalantly reach over the bar to grab a tumbler and pour some whiskey into it. He didn't deserve to be happy ever again, she would make sure of it.

Finally, he turned around and his eyes glossed over her. He had to double-check, probably to make sure she was actually there and wasn't just a hallucination. Oh, he should have wished she were. His expression morphed from confusion to stupor, ultimately settling on pleasant surprise. He looked genuinely happy to her there, although the wrinkle between his brows told her he didn't understand why.

"Chloe? What..."

On the inside, the way her name escaped his lips made her flinch. On the inside, she screamed obscenities and threw things at him. But on the outside, she simply stared back at him with a stone-cold expression, unmoving. 

She uncrossed her legs, folding her hands on her laps. "I just couldn't wait to see you," she said, her voice sweet like honey but as deadly as venom. 

His frown deepened. "Is there something wrong, dear?"

Chloe pressed her lips together to prevent herself from shouting. Instead, she took a deep breath and murmured, "Come sit down."

"I don't understand."

"Sit. Down." She seethed, her jaw tensing strenuously. 

He looked at her with utter confusion for a few seconds, then strode towards the couch next to where she was sitting. He did what he was told, watching her closely the whole time. 

"As I guess you've already figured out, there will be no date. I'm sure you'll understand why," she said. "I was just another one of your playthings anyway, wasn't I?" 

"I-"

"Don't fucking talk!" She shouted, bolting upright and on her feet, moving away from him. 

Chloe had to admit he was a good actor. He looked completely dumbfounded, like he didn't have a single clue about what was going on at that moment. A little hurt, even. Had she not known better she might have fallen for that little ruse of his.

"Tell me, was it fun? Screwing me after I had told you all about my dreams? About my father? Did you get off on the fact I was so naïve and didn't know you are the reason why he's dead?"

By the way he was looking at her she could tell he wanted to talk but didn't dare to. She paced the living room in long strides, frantically trying to make sense of her own words. Her thoughts flashed scattered inside her brain, making it impossible to follow them.

"What do you know about Perry Smith?" She asked, stopping in front of him but with the glass table between them. "Answer me!"

"Am I supposed to know who that is?" 

Chloe scoffed loudly. "Stop playing dumb, it doesn't look good on you."

"I have no idea who you're talking about, I swear! I don't lie, ever," he insisted. 

Taking her phone out of her back pocket, she searched his photo online and showed it to him. There was a flicker of recognition in his gaze as soon as his eyes fell upon the screen.

"He came to me asking for a favor and I granted him what he wanted. I told you, I am the Devil. This is what I do," he replied.

"So you're not denying you gave Perry Smith a connection with the Russian Mob."

Lucifer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "No, I am not. What does this have to do with anything?"

"Smith killed my father. He went to confront the bastard on his Mob ties and got killed in the process," she deadpanned. "But you already knew that, didn't you?" She snarled.

"And how in the bloody hell would I know that?" His voice was raising too, probably not liking her accusations.

"Well, let me see... Because you were the one who introduced them? You have ties with those people, you probably profit from their affairs."

"What I do," he argued back, "is giving people what they want. I don't keep tabs on what they do afterwards. You can't honestly expect me to check on every single human I've granted a favor to throughout the centuries, that would be ludicrous!"

"Don't fucking lie to me!"

He exhaled through his nose like a bull ready to charge. "I. Do. Not. Lie." He punctuated every word, slowly rising from the couch.

Her hand went inside the pocket of her jacket and stayed there. "Don't come near me," she warned him.

"Or what?" He snapped

She extracted the knife from her pocket, flipping it open with a smooth flick of her wrist. The sharp blade shone in the light, almost menacingly so. He looked at it for a second and, throwing his head back, he laughed. There was no humor in it. When their eyes met again his irises were as black as coal, his pupils barely visible. He looked deadly, blood-chillingly cold. 

"So, let me get this straight. This Smith bloke comes to me asking for a connection with the Mob and I give one to him. Then your father finds out about his affairs, confronts him and Smith kills him. And somehow, I'm the bad guy?" He asked, circling the small table to get closer to her.

For each step forward he took she drew back, the knife pointed ahead of her. 

"If it weren't for you, Smith wouldn't have gotten into the fucking Russian Mob and my father would still be alive."

He shook his head. "Or maybe not. You can't possibly know this."

"It doesn't matter," she said. "You knew about it and pretended like you didn't. You sent your minion to ask for evidence, she talked to Smith. I have the video proof of it."

His expression showed confusion for a second, then hardened again. "Maze? I didn't send her anywhere."

"You're her boss!"

"Do you see me walking around with her on a leash? She does whatever she pleases, in case you haven't noticed."

He kept on getting closer and closer as she tried to escape him without succeeding.

"If you have all the evidence you need, why don't you go to the police? Why did you need to come here first?" He almost growled, the sound rumbling inside his chest. "Oh, I know. Because it's easier to blame it all on me, right? It's always like this with you humans, isn't it? The Devil made me do this, the Devil made me do that. I have never made any of you do anything! Ever!" He screamed almost into her face and she had no option but to lift her knife higher.

"I told you to stay away from me," she repeated but her words didn't sound so threatening anymore.

"Or what? You're going to kill me?" He asked, a malicious grin hatched on his face. "Come on, do it, _Detective_."

She could taste the bile rising inside her throat. "You're like poison, Lucifer," she spat out in disgust. "You ruin everything you touch. My life would have been so much better if you had never existed. I wish I had never met you," she concluded, tears forming into her eyes, stinging like they were made of acid.

Lucifer grabbed her wrist forcefully, making her lift the knife to the point where the tip made contact with his jugular. "Go on then. Do it. Kill me. You're the only one who can finally free the Earth from the Devil," he provoked her, his grip tightening painfully around her arm.

For a second there she wished to be able to do such a thing. It would have been so easy. The only thing she needed to do was put more pressure on the knife, making the blade pierce into his skin and cut him open. He would have bled out in seconds, dying almost instantly. For a moment that was exactly what she did, watching the sharp tip of the blade press into his soft skin until she drew a few drops of blood from him.  
But she couldn't do it. Chloe didn't have it in her. So she loosened the grip around the knife and it fell to the ground with a clank.

His first was still balled around her wrist and she was sure the harsh contact would leave a bruise behind. They were both heaving now, chests rising in falling out of rhythm. Her own heartbeat thumped inside her ears and combined with the sound of her labored breathing she could barely hear anything else outside of her. 

"Wrong choice, Detective," he called her that again, the inflection on that word making her understand he meant for it to be derogatory. 

"Maybe you really are the Devil," she barked at him, as hot tears ultimately escaped her eyes and poured down her cheeks and neck. "You're a monster."

"Oh, darling, you have no idea how right you are," he said in a softer, hushed tone, a small grin spreading wide on his face. 

It began with his eyes. Chloe saw them flicker red, a bright crimson replacing the usual warm brown of his irises. She blinked, thinking her own eyes were playing tricks on her mind, but the color didn't change. Then it spread to his face; it happened in spots, his ivory skin looked like it was burning, turning into raw flesh. His hair completely disappeared, almost going up in flames like the rest of him. 

Lucifer looked like he had been burned alive. His features were completely distorted, unrecognizable. Had she not been completely terrified at the sight she might have felt sorry for him. 

_He was the Devil._

He hadn't lied, not about that at least. The evidence was right in front of her and it made her skin crawl.   
Chloe's wrist was finally free from his grip and she tried to move away, stumbling backward and hitting the pavement with her behind. Pain seared through her, but she kept on moving on her hands and feet until her back slammed against a wall. 

"It's all true," she cried out, struggling to get back up.

He didn't move. His eyes were fixed on her, simply wanting to show her how wrong she could be on everything; how much scarier he could get.

Finally back on her feet, she almost ran to the elevator and pressed the button frantically, hoping the machine wouldn't fail her. The doors slid open immediately. "Stay the fuck away from me," she said watched him disappear as the elevator closed back up and began its descent. 

The first thing she saw once she was on the bottom level of the building was the face of Maze, looking at her as she cleaned up a glass. The woman noticed her despair and surprisingly smiled as if the sight provoked joy in her. If possible, Chloe hated her even more.

And then, with the little energy she had left in her body, she ran out of there and never stopped to look back.

* * *

She carried on running until her lungs burned with every intake of air and her legs gave out. Chloe was exhausted but at the same time knew that if she stopped even for a second her brain would start thinking again and everything would hurt.  
In just one day her entire life had been flipped upside down. Every single one of her beliefs had been taken and incinerated until there was nothing left but ashes. 

Her father had died because he wanted to do the right thing but had stepped on some powerful people's toes. In her mind he was a hero, but that knowledge didn't make the grief any more bearable. The man everyone thought to be his murderer was innocent. She would make sure the real culprit paid for what he had done.

There was way more than that, though.

The Devil was real. He existed and didn't look like the horned monster from childhood horror stories. On most days he was a handsome, charming man, whom she had grown to care about way more than she would have willingly admitted.   
And if the Devil was a reality, that meant she had to face the fact Heaven and Hell were also a thing. God was out there, somewhere. Chloe had always been an atheist but Lucifer Morningstar had made a believer out of her. There was simply no denying the truth anymore. She had seen him with her own eyes.

And yet a small, insistent part of her ached for the loss of a person she had started to fall for. Her feelings for him had been real and strong, so powerful they had completely clouded her judgment on more than one occasion.  
They never stood a chance anyway.

When her legs could barely support her anymore, she looked around and tried to understand where she had ended up. There were no tall buildings and crowded streets around her. She was in a much more wooded area, with lots of green and trees lining the sidewalk. It didn't take long for her to figure out where she was. 

Chloe hadn't been to visit her father's grave in a long time. She would usually blame it on how busy she was, but the truth was that she didn't like cemeteries. Some people found them creepy or eerie, she simply thought them useless. People buried there couldn't see or hear anything or anyone. They were dead; there was no reason to go and visit someone who was not alive anymore.

She knew better now.  
Gasping for air, she followed the narrow path made out of cobblestone that led inside the cemetery, searching for John Decker's tombstone. It didn't take her very long to find it. Some fresh flowers had been recently put into a vase and the stone looked clean and shiny like the first day — thanks to her mother, she was sure. Sighing quietly, she let herself fall to her knees, head bent low.

"Hey, dad. I don't know if you can hear me from up there," she whispered, still trying to catch her breath. "I'm sorry if I don't come to visit often, I just... I hate this place. It reminds me that you're not here anymore and it hurts," her voice broke as her body shook with barely contained sobs. 

She looked at the tombstone, touching the engraved name with the tip on her index finger.

"I miss you so, so much. Not a single day passes in which I'm not thinking about you. I know it sounds so cliche but it's true," she said, wiping a few tears with the back of her hand. "I know who killed you. I'm going to bring him to justice like you always wanted to. But... I messed so many things up, daddy. I used to have all my priorities in order, all my beliefs, and now... I have nothing. I'm so scared. I've never been so scared, daddy," Chloe admitted on a whimper, covering her tear-stained face with her hands. "Oh, please help me. I don't know what to do."

She didn't expect an answer from him. Sure, he probably was in Heaven and there was the smallest chance he might have heard her plea, but she wasn't delusional enough to think he could talk back to her. 

Yet, a sudden change of wind blew towards her and she felt warmer and calmer. A faint scent of coffee and cologne filled her nostrils. For a moment she believed her father was there with her and that maybe that was his way of giving her a hug. Perhaps he was trying to say everything would be okay in the end. Then, as abruptly as it had arrived, the breath of warm air ceased and she was left shivering on the ground. It still made her feel better. She knew that, even though she couldn't see him anymore, her father would always be there to help her out and that was more than she could ask for.

"I love you so much, daddy," she murmured to the wind and, touching the stone one last time, she got up and walked out of the cemetery. 

As she did that, Chloe watched the sun slowly settle behind the trees and the soft hills of Los Angeles' landscape. It was getting darker and chilly by the minute, the damp clothes from the run sticking to her body making her feel cold and uncomfortable. She was trembling uncontrollably by the time she decided to get a ride and go back to San Bernardino. It was time to return home.

When she got to the apartment a faint sense of relief overcame her when she saw that Ella wasn't around yet. Chloe could hear the sound of the running shower though, signaling that her roommate would be out any minute. She wasn't ready to tell Ella what had happened that day — she possibly never would be — but the idea of lying to her friend again made her feel sick to her stomach. If there was something she hated more than anything about the last month was the kind of friend she had become. _No more lies_ , she decided.

So while Ella was under the shower, Chloe changed into a clean shirt and sweatpants, then undid her painfully tight ponytail and brushed her hair out. She took the makeup off — or at least what was left of it after tears and sweat had rubbed most of it away — and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

If there was a thing she knew about herself was how much she needed to act normal in order to _feel_ normal. Had she decided to lock herself into her room for days, it would have taken weeks or months for her to start going back to her everyday reality. She wanted to forget and move on as soon as possible and would try and make amends with Ella in the process. 

Opening the fridge she realized there wasn't much to eat but would make it work. She ended up frying some sausages and making a potato salad to go with the meat, then set the table and waited for her friend to arrive.  
It didn't take long for Ella to show up, probably lured in by the smell of freshly cooked food. The girl sauntered into the room with a big smile on her face, hair up in a messy bun, wearing a unicorn-themed pajama set and glasses that looked almost comically big on her petite face. She regarded Chloe with a confused expression.

"Hey, Chlo! Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for your big..." Ella took a better look at her and she knew her face gave it all away. She has seen her reflection in the mirror while taking off her makeup. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, cheeks splotchy, her nose was red and dry. Chloe looked like a mess and she knew it. Her friend whispered, "date," before running to her and embracing her. "Oh my God, what happened to you?"

Chloe's eyes started to water again but she stubbornly refused to cry. "I... I don't want to lie to you ever again Ella, so please don't make me," she replied in a choked voice.

Ella pulled back to look into her eyes. "Did he do something to you? Should we go to the police?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not like that. I just don't have the strength to talk about it right now," she said, her chin wobbling uncontrollably. "I just want to have dinner with you and pretend everything's fine."

"Okay," Ella nodded once, her eyes full of tears and genuine sorrow for her. "Yes, we can do that."

"Just... Just hug me a little longer?"

Her friend started full-on crying, hugging her tired. "There's nothing an Ella hug can't cure," she sobbed into Chloe's hair.

Chloe's arms wrapped tighter around her friend, letting a few of her own tears go. Things wouldn't be easy for a long time after that, she was sure about it, but with Ella by her side, she could conquer the world. Who needed a man with a friend like her?


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there! Thanks for all the nice comments and the critiques on last chapter. It has been the most commented one so far, so even though not everyone appreciated it, I guess it still got a very big reaction. 
> 
> This is a bit of a dive into Lucifer's perspective, since the previous three chapters have been from Chloe's point of view only. You'll understand why I decided to go in this direction at the end, I promise.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and I'll see you next week x

Self-destructing was probably the thing Lucifer excelled the most at. He seemed to bask in the subtle pain of failure and rejection, in the feeling of constant inadequacy that seemed to follow him like a shadow. After all, it was everything he had known for eons. It was almost comforting, secure. He couldn't be disappointed when he expected nothing good to happen to him.

The way he had reacted when Chloe had so vehemently attacked him, accusing him of being behind her father's death, didn't come as a surprise. Someone else might have tried to calm her down, to reason with her — and to his defense, he had tried at first — instead, he had ended up cornering her, fighting back just as fiercely. He hated being blamed for every bad deed humanity made. Lucifer had been used as a scapegoat for the most depraved of their actions, for every sin and mistake they willingly chose to make. He wouldn't let it continue to happen. 

Then again, she hadn't deserved to see the worst, most monstrous side of him. He usually reserved that part for the ones beyond redemption, the people that would suffer in the pits of Hell, destined to torture themselves in endless loops of self-inflicted suffering.  
She wasn't one of those ill-fated souls. Behind the strong, level-headed girl persona was someone who desperately wanted to do good. Not just for her, but for everyone. She wanted to be a cop to protect complete strangers, that was how selfless she was. 

Lucifer didn't know much about Heaven anymore, but he was sure her soul was destined to the Silver City when her time came.

Why had he decided to punish her that way, then? If he was honest with himself — which he could admit wasn't always the case, because he hated lying but he did cut himself some slack when it came to self-deception — he hadn't been thinking straight when he had shown her his Devil face. He had been blinded by rage, so caught up in the feeling of being rejected and villainized by someone he cared so much about. That was the painful truth he had to accept; he cared about her. 

At that moment he had enjoyed seeing her terrified eyes on him. He had relished watching her as she scrambled back and ran for her life, scared and horrified out of her mind because of him. He had wanted her to fear him. It had been cruel and selfish of him but had made his wounded ego feel better nonetheless. 

When she was gone and he was left all alone with his thoughts and the trustworthy bottle of whiskey by his side, realization had finally sunken in and he had inevitably understood what he had done. Lucifer had made a terrible mistake. One he was sure he could never remedy to. A part of him knew he didn't deserve to be forgiven for his actions that day and wished she never would. What he deserved was the same kind of pain he had inflicted on her. Yet the egoistic side of him hoped one day she could find it in her heart to accept how sorry he was for hurting her. 

But how could she? How could he in all honesty expect her to accept who he was — the monster parents told their spawn about to make them behave — when he himself couldn't accept his nature? It had taken centuries for him to be even able to look at the disfigured reflection in the mirror, he was sure it would take anyone else way more than that. She was just a human, after all. They didn't have that kind of time. Whatever they had was doomed right from the beginning.

The days following that event went by in a blur. Lucifer remembered taking the elevator to the bottom level of the building just to get his hands on the biggest amount of drugs his bartender-slash-dealer could supply him with. Maze had tried to stop him on his way back to the penthouse, asking if he was planning on throwing a party, considering the amount of drugs he was holding, but he hadn't even looked in her direction. He wanted to be alone and the unnerving fiend was the last being he wished to be around. 

After that, everything blended together. He kept himself as high as possible by ingesting amounts of drugs and liquors that would kill any human being, but at least he wasn't thinking of her. Not when he was conscious anyway. Sometimes he would pass out and images of her would flash before him, her scared face haunting him like a nightmare far too vivid and impossible to get rid of. That only made him want to drink and use narcotics even more. He was barely eating at all, and only because someone — Mazikeen, by the looks of it — was making sure to have something edible delivered to him at least twice a day. Every table or flat surface was covered in take-out boxes and wrappers; even his precious piano now looked as if a fast-food trash can had exploded all over it.

He didn't give a damn about cleaning up. His entire existence was a bloody mess so his living space might as well look like it. Lucifer had even started to contemplate the unthinkable: going back to Hell. At least he would have a purpose there. One he didn't like and made his skin crawl just by thinking about it, but a purpose nevertheless.   
Anytime that thought would cross his mind though, he would picture Amenadiel's smug face of triumph and the idea would completely leave his thoughts. He couldn't give his brother that satisfaction. 

The day Maze eventually decided to go up there and see for herself what the hell was going on with him, he was sitting on his couch in nothing but a silk robe haphazardly tied on his stomach. Lucifer was crouching down on the crystal coffee table above freshly divided lines of cocaine. With one hand he rolled a fifty-dollar bill, barely noticing the woman's presence. 

"You look like hell," she commented, an eyebrow raised in mild disgust.

He believed her. The last time he had happened to catch a glimpse of himself in the mirror he had barely recognize the reflection as his own. He looked way worse than that. His hair stuck out in weird places, bits of it falling onto his forehead in complete disarray. Dark, purplish shadows circled his eyes and his usual scruff had begun to resemble more and more a full beard. He hadn't taken a shower in... well, he couldn't tell how long, because he had completely lost track of time. 

He looked up at Maze, a dry, lopsided grin on his face. "Ba dum tss! Never heard that before," he replied sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, now you actually do. Care to explain why am I trying to keep you alive by feeding you if all you want to do is die alone up here?" She asked, almost exasperated.

"I have never asked you to babysit me, Maze."

"And I wouldn't do it if you stopped acting like a child!" She threw her hands in the air, rolling her eyes to the ceiling. "Do you have any idea how much time has passed since the last time you set foot outside this place?"

"I do not care," he informed her, bending back down on the table to snort a line. He wiped the residue off his nose with the back of his hand, throwing his head backward. "Pesky supernatural metabolism always getting in the way," he muttered, barely feeling the effect of the drug.

"Of course you don't care! I'm the one who has to take care of _your_ nightclub while you're pining over a fucking human up here all day long," Maze glares at him. "I didn't leave Hell to be a bartender, Lucifer."

He leaned against the backrest of the couch, closing his eyes and hoping for the cocaine to start having some effect on him. "And that would be my problem because..."

"I came here because I had to follow you!"

He huffed out a bitter laugh, straightening his back to look at her. "You made a vow, Mazikeen. I did not force you to make one. You _chose_ to serve me of your own volition. Don't blame me for your lack of judgment," he sneered at her.

Lucifer grabbed a tumbler full of whiskey just as she rounded the table and stood right in front of him. If she was trying to intimidate him, she was failing miserably. He really didn't give a damn about anything anymore. 

"You know, growing up the daughter of Lilith wasn't easy. All I've ever known since birth has been rejection," her voice cracked on the last word, although Lucifer could tell she was trying not to show emotion. "And then I met you," she pointed an accusatory finger at him, "and I thought you were the first person to accept me for who I was. No judgment, no... no shame. I felt accepted. You were just... just my friend."

At that moment, as her eyes filled with tears, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. There was no denying he had been treating her awfully in the past few months. He had never really stopped to think about what she felt but then again, demons weren't supposed to have feelings at all. That was one of the reasons why Lilith had chosen to make her offspring soulless. 

"I am your friend," he replied, taking a gulp of the amber liquid. 

"I thought you were, but you're not. This girl comes along and you start treating me like I'm disposable. That isn't friendship, Lucifer."

He shot her a warning look. "Stop talking about her."

"Or what?" She bent forward, shoving him with a push of her hands on his shoulders. "Can't you see I did all of this to protect you?" Maze almost shouted at him, her voice shaking with fury.

"Did what?"

"Who do you think gave her all the information about her father and the useless piece of garbage who killed him, uh? _It was me_. I'm good at hunting humans, don't you know that?" Her question was entirely rhetorical. He almost didn't want to believe her but then again, he had suspected she was behind all that for a while. "I knew she would hate you if she found out about the connection between you and Smith so I gave her a little push and she blew up just like I expected her to. And for one _fucking_ second I thought you would forget about her if she rejected you but here you are, whining like a baby," she spat in disgust. "You're the Devil, for fuck's sake, not a lovesick puppy!"

The grip around his glass tightened, crystal cracking slowly under his fingers. "How many times do I have to tell you I don't need your protection, you stubborn demon?" He roared, eyes blazing crimson red.

"And how many times do I have to tell you I'll protect you no matter what, even from threats you can't see?"

"What threat? She's just a human!"

Maze shook her head, a bitter smile forming on her face. "Do you want the truth? Fine. I was protecting you from your Father."

"My Father?" He scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, Mazikeen."

"You see, I ran into Amenadiel a little while ago and we had a very enlightening talk," she informed him, twirling a strand of curly hair between her fingers almost casually. "Apparently, Miss Chloe Decker is a miracle."

"Wha-What is that supposed to mean?" He asked, stumbling in his words.

She regarded him with barely concealed disdain. "I think you know what I mean. If you decide to be honest with yourself, I'd say you've probably suspected that for a while, haven't you?"

"No. No, it can't be," he murmured, dazed and confused, the glass in his hand protesting under his hold.

"Yeah, it can. This is why I tried to drive her away from you. This is why I did everything in my power to keep you two apart, you ungrateful asshole," she shoved him again, harder. "Because she's just one of your Dad's manipulations. Everything you think you had is fake. And I, in my stupid mind, thought it best not to make you suffer with the truth!"

Inside Lucifer's mind, everything started spinning. Nothing made sense anymore. Nothing was real. He couldn't believe his freedom had been violated once again by his dear old Dad. 

"It can't be," he repeated again, visibly in shock. 

"I protected you, Lucifer, because this is the kind of friend I am to you. You're welcome," she said, turning around to grab the bottle of whiskey from the coffee table. "You don't deserve me. You never will," she whispered and with that started walking towards the elevator. A few seconds later she halted, and without looking back said, "If you don't believe me, ask your brother," before getting into the elevator and disappear behind the sliding doors.

Suddenly, he closed his first around the glass and it shattered, the sharp pieces flying in every direction. He expected pain. He expected blood pouring down his fingers and onto the carpet. It didn't happen. When he unfurled his fingers, shards of glass dropped to the floor but the palm was intact. There were no cuts, no blood. He was invulnerable once again but, for some reason, that didn't make him feel better. 

He needed explanations and this time wouldn't take no for an answer. 

* * *

The last thing Lucifer wanted to do was praying to his brother again. Every time they met up, Amenadiel would try and force him to go back to Hell which, although appealing now, was simply not happening in a million years if he had a say on it. The mutual disdain the two brothers shared showed so clearly whenever they talked to each other, and that wouldn't be helpful. He liked torturing Amenadiel and keeping their banter going but in that cause it would have just slowed things down and he couldn't risk it.

Unfortunately, his brother was the only person he could talk to, not to mention the only one who would probably ever answer his prayers. Not that he had ever tried contacting any of his other siblings. He hadn't even tried to talk to Azrael, to whom he had been so close once. That time in his life seemed so far gone it almost felt like a dream, a distant memory he wasn't sure had ever been real to begin with.   
On the other hand, none of his siblings had ever tried to see him. Amenadiel only did it when he needed to drag his ass back down to where he thought Lucifer rightfully belonged, never because he happened to miss his brother. Admittedly they had never been close to being with back in the Silver City, but at least they didn't hate each other back then. Not like he and Michael did.

Everything between him and his twin brother had been a competition since day one. Michael had been created a fraction of a second before Lucifer had, and apparently, that made him not only the eldest of the two but also the most deserving of love and attention from their parents and the rest of the Celestial Host. Of course, that was according to Michael's idea. Lucifer never really cared about their rivalry.

There had been a time in which he had believed God and Goddess loved each and every single one of their children in the same way. They talked to all of his siblings — he included — and gave them tasks to accomplish and directions to follow. They felt like they all had a purpose. _He_ had a purpose. That was the time he was also entrusted with the Flaming Sword, the powerful weapon able to cut through anything in existence. So mighty it could create blazing balls of flames and light. That was exactly what he did; he made the stars and lit up the sky with them, and all his siblings started calling him Lucifer, _the Lightbringer_. Michael was even more envious of him then.

That was the time his Father still spoke to them, to _him_. He had stopped shortly after, too engrossed in his new project: humanity. With the idea of his new toy forming in his brilliant, almighty brain, he had no reason to care about the family he had created anymore. It was in that moment that the seed of doubt planted itself in Lucifer's mind and started to grow roots, radicating itself so deep inside him, he could barely think of anything else.   
Why was he blindly obeying his Father's orders when He didn't care about them? Why couldn't he just make choices for himself? Was wanting free will so bad after all? 

So Lucifer had decided to fight for his freedom. He had somehow failed to remember that his dear old Dad knew each and every thought everyone had in his all-knowing state of divinity, so he was ready to fight back. Truth be told he knew there was no way he could win against his Father. He just hoped to be heard; understood, maybe. He wanted his Dad's attention and he got just that when he was thrown out of the gates of Heaven and into the bowels of Hell.  
In the end, he had gotten the free will he so desperately wanted, but at what cost? 

His entire family was the price he had to pay. So a tiny, minuscule part of him understood why his siblings never tried to talk to him. They were made to believe he was the odd one out, the outcast, the black sheep. And of course, they were also afraid of falling as he had. He couldn't really blame them.

A blaring car horn shook him back to reality, making him look around in confusion. He was standing on the balcony, one hand clutched to the railing while the other held a half-smoked cigarette. So lost in his lucubration he had nearly forgotten he had decided to take a breath of fresh air while also filling his lungs with smoke.   
He didn't like dwelling on his past. That part of him was long gone, but sometimes he couldn't stop himself from thinking about it. After all, his past had made him who he was, shaped him in the most painful way possible but still created the man standing on that balcony at that moment.

Once he was done with his cigarette, he went back inside, leaving the glass door open. Taking a deep, shaky breath he put his hands together in prayer, hoping his brother wouldn't make it more difficult for him. Even with his eyes closed, Lucifer sensed Amenadiel's presence as soon as he arrived. There was a loud whoosh of air, then the sound he associated to a pair of wings folding onto themselves and disappearing from view. When he finally reopened his eyes, they fell onto the imposing frame of his brother, standing in the middle of his penthouse with a disapproving look on his face. 

"You look like hell," he said in his low, baritone voice with a headshake.

Lucifer glared at him. "Are you and Maze exchanging poor jokes during your conversations?" He asked rolling his eyes, all good intentions thrown out of the window. "Do you braid each other's hair in your spare time, too? Oh, right," he gestured to Amenadiel's bald head, grimacing. 

"Ha-ha, now who's making poor jokes?" His brother deadpanned. "So, unless you've called me here to get you down where you are supposed to be, I won't stick around for more of those."

"You said you didn't know anything about Chloe Decker," Lucifer finally spit out just as Amenadiel was turning around to walk to the balcony, no doubt trying to fly off. He stopped dead in his tracks, his body growing rigid. 

"Maze told you," he said flatly.

"She did," Lucifer confirmed. "Care to explain why you chose to lie to me last time?"

Amenadiel whipped back around, a frown creasing his forehead. "I didn't lie. Not on purpose, at least. When you told me about her I genuinely had no idea who she was, but something you said sounded incredibly familiar so I had to check. And I was right."

"Could you at least try to be less vague?" Lucifer impatiently thumped his bare foot on the pavement. 

He watched his brother get closer, eyes fixed on anywhere but Lucifer. Amenadiel didn't look so keen on sharing that information with him, but by the way his shouldered sagged he felt like he had no other choice.

"A little over twenty-two years ago, Father asked me to come down on Earth and lay a blessing on a woman. He told me it was of the utmost importance that she was able to get pregnant and have a child with her husband so, as usual, I obeyed without question," he explained, still walking around cardboard boxes and the general mess in his apartment. "Turns out, that woman was Chloe's mom."

"You put her in my path. You helped Father manipulate me all over again," Lucifer sneered. 

"I didn't do anything. Until a few weeks ago I had no idea what had happened after I blessed that woman. I was played too, Lucifer. I was a pawn in Father's game."

He scoffed, barely containing himself from rolling his eyes. "Don't you dare compare our situations. They're nothing alike."

"Listen, Luci," Amenadiel said in a softer tone, using a nickname that had once been endearing, "all I ever wanted to do was make Father proud. I thought I was doing great works in His name. Instead, the very first of His angels was busy making a little girlfriend for you," he concluded. 

Some part of him understood how Amenadiel was feeling. It was evident just how much their Father's manipulation had gotten to him, but that was what happened when you decided to put all your faith and love into the hands of a self-centered tyrant. Was any of his siblings ever going to learn?

"Well, I'm sorry you feel cheated on, but guess what? I never asked for any of this either," he replied, raking a hand through his tousled hair. 

"We're on the same side here, brother."

"Are we?" Lucifer huffed a dry laugh. "Because I remember you wanting to drag me back to Hell a few moments ago."

"You know that place needs a ruler, Lucifer, and I'm tired of holding the fall," Amenadiel said. 

"Oh, my heart bleeds for you! You have been there for a few years, whilst I spent the better part of my existence doing a job I always hated," he replied, shaking his head. "And what is she? A consolation prize for being shunted out of the family?"

Amenadiel sighed. "What I'm trying to say is, I understand why you'd be mad. I am, too," he admitted, a hint of shame evident in his voice.

"So, how far does Father's plan go?" Lucifer asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what about _her_? Does she know? Is she just another pawn or..." he couldn't bear finishing the sentence. 

His brother shook his head no. "She doesn't know, Lucifer. Chloe is just as clueless as we all are."

"Good," he murmured, feeling a hint of relief, "at least she has a choice. She probably made the right one when she ran out of here."

Amenadiel looked at him with an arched brow.

"I showed her my... other side," Lucifer explained. 

"What?" His brother almost shouted, incredulity dripping from his voice. "Are you insane? Humans are not supposed to know about divinity."

"Sure, and dear old Dad isn't supposed to play a role in their reproduction either, but that didn't stop him from toying around with it, am I wrong?"

"It's probably part of his plan."

"Oh, is it now? Do me a favor and get your head out of Father's arse when you have the chance, brother," he mocked Amenadiel.

"Why did you do it anyway?" The angel said, ignoring his brother's snarky remark. 

"It's a long story, but now I'm almost glad I did it. At least she gets to decide for herself without being forced to feel things she wouldn't without Father's interference," he simply shrugged.

Amenadiel paused for a while, staring at his brother attentively. "Has it ever accrued to you that maybe you're throwing away something good? She could be a gift."

Lucifer swallowed. Amenadiel had no idea what he was talking about because only his Father probably knew just how good she was, how selfless and caring Chloe Decker could be. He was well aware he was giving up something that could have possibly been really good for him, but that also meant giving her a chance at something way better. There were things he could have never given her. A normal life was not in the cards when he was involved. 

"She's not an object. She's a person, Amenadiel. If her choice is to stay away from me, so be it," he replied instead. 

His brother moved closer to him, stopping to pat a hand on his shoulder before surpassing him and going to the balcony. "I didn't see it before, but now I do. There's still good in you, Lucifer. Don't let it go to waste," he said and Lucifer was glad they weren't facing each other because his eyes glistened with unshed tears. 

Then the air around him changed again and just like that he knew Amenadiel had left. He wished more than anything his words to be true, but he knew there was still a lot of darkness inside of him and it was something he might never learn to get rid of. If he truly wanted to be a better person he would have to work on himself, but that couldn't be done by himself.   
Maybe he knew just the person that could help him. 

* * *

The steamy hot water pouring from the showerhead down on him made every fiber in his body relax. It seemed like the tension he had been feeling for weeks now, downright to his very bones, was finally melting away and leaving him. His mindset had not improved yet, but he had to start somewhere. 

Once out of the shower he tied a towel around his waist and walked over to the sink, wiping the fog off the mirror with the palm of his hand. For the first time in weeks, he looked at himself closely. Maze and Amenadiel had been right; he did look awful. Thankfully, he could remedy most of it.  
He began by shaving his beard, leaving the usual five o'clock shadow to contour his face. Lucifer also needed a haircut, but that was a job for a professional and he simply didn't have time for it that day. Then — when he was dry and his eyes looked less bloodshot than before thanks to some eye drops — he went into his walk-in closet and chose his outfit. Admittedly he didn't care much about what he would wear. He wasn't feeling sociable at all lately, but he had an appointment he couldn't keep on postponing. 

So he simply slipped into a pair of blue pants and white shirt, put on the matching jacket, a pair of leather shoes, and off to Doctor Linda's he went. 

The look of surprise on her face when she opened the door and found him standing there told Lucifer she was not expecting him. He frowned, visibly confused.

"Lucifer! I'm really glad to see you again," she greeted him a little too cheerfully, stepping aside to let him into the office. 

He walked past her to the couch but didn't sit. "You look... puzzled. Do I have the wrong day? I thought we agreed on meeting once a week," he said.

She cracked an insecure smile. "Yes, of course. It's just... you've missed our appointments for the past three weeks, Lucifer. And you also didn't answer any of my calls," she informed him, "but please, sit down."

"Three weeks," he muttered to himself. Had it been that long already? He could barely believe it. "I'm sorry, I've been a little... caught up," he admitted.

"May I ask what have you been _caught up_ with?"

"Spiraling into a drug and alcohol-induced stupor would probably be more accurate," Lucifer grimaced almost apologetically.

"Oh," Linda's eyes bulged, sitting down in her usual spot like she feared fainting, did she not have something to support her. "Uh, thanks for the honesty, I guess," she said.

He nodded, crossing his legs as the Doctor tried to find a comfortable position on her chair, visibly uneasy. 

"So... I'd ask how you've been doing but I guess not good if you had to resort to drugs," she half-laughed. "Why don't we start from the reason behind it? Has something happened?"

His brows furrowed. "Well, where do I even begin?" He asked rhetorically. "I saw the girl I talked to you about in our previous sessions. I gave her some time as you told me to and she agreed to meet. We had a very lovely night... and morning."

"So I'm assuming you slept with her."

"Yes, I did. It was incredible, honestly. I don't think I've ever felt so connected to someone before," he admitted. Lucifer couldn't help but notice that was the first time he thought about sex as more than just a way to give and receive pleasure and gratification. It had meant more with her. "That of course was before she accused me of having something to do with her father's homicide, consequently saw my Devil face and I found out she's actually a miracle sent by my Dad to manipulate me," he concluded.

There was silence for a few beats, neither of them speaking. Linda could just stare at him barely blinking and he didn't know what was wrong with her. Before he could move to snap his fingers in front of her face, she seemed to jolt awake. 

"You lost me at _her father's homicide_ ," she repeated his words slowly, looking downright dumbfounded.

"It's an incredibly long story and honestly it is hers to tell, not mine," he said. There was still this voice inside his head telling him not to break the promise he had made to her about her privacy. It was stupid, given the fact she would probably never be in his life ever again, but a promise was a promise and he was nothing if not a Devil of his word.

She was still looking at him, her manicured fingers tapping on her knee. "When you say she's a miracle sent by your father, what do you mean exactly?"

"Apparently her mother was sterile and dear almighty God decided to perform a miracle on her through my brother and she was born."

Linda's laughter exploded, echoing in the small space of her office. When she noticed his serious, impassive expression though it died down and she tried to mask it with a cough. "Medicine is a very complex science. Sometimes things like this do feel like a miracle, I can understand that," she nodded, repositioning her glasses.

"No, you do not understand," Lucifer said, starting to lose his patience. "Listen, I don't have time to deal with the inevitable mental breakdown my other form would provoke, so just humor me for a second here, alright? _I am the Devil_. My father is God. Do you understand that?" He spoke slowly as though to a child, and a pretty dumb one at that.

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth for a second, rubbing off some of the pink lipstick she was wearing. "Fine. Let's say I believe you. God sent one of his angels to help a woman have a daughter who you met. Why is it a bad thing?" She asked him.

"Because," he sighed, exasperated, "she didn't ask to be born. She didn't have a choice in meeting me, in feeling the way she did about me. She was made to toy with me like a pawn in a bloody game," he pounded a fist on his thigh, rage bubbling under his skin. "She didn't have free will."

"It might come as a shock to you, Lucifer, but none of us asks to be born," she replies calmly, "the same way we don't get to decide who we meet and how we feel about them," was her conclusion. 

He pondered that for a moment, then shook his head in disagreement. "It's different. Someone else chose for us, how is that fair?"

"It isn't," Linda agreed. "But then again, life rarely is. Maybe you were pushed in that direction, but who's to say that direction is wrong?"

Lucifer pressed his index and middle finger to his left temple. "It doesn't matter now. She's seen my worst side and ran away. In the end, I was able to give her a choice," he murmured. 

Her lips pursed in a straight line. "It sounds to me like you chose for her," she argued, an eyebrow arched. "I'll tell you what I see, Lucifer. You're used to rejection. It's comforting for you, familiar. She got too close, too personal, and that scared you way more than you'd like to admit so you showed her your worst and she did exactly what you expected her to. Not because she chose to, but because you made her. Doesn't sound so different from what your father has done, to me," she shrugged.

He knew she was just trying to get through to him. The way she acted and spoke made it plainly clear, yet he couldn't stop the visceral reaction in him. "You're wrong," he hissed.

"And yet you controlled someone else's life," she pointed out.

"I did not."

"I don't expect you to be ready to accept the reality of things," she said to him in her most soothing, gentle tone. "We'll definitely need to work on that. What I can tell you, as a piece of personal advice, is this: apologise. Say you're sorry. Give up control for once, Lucifer. It's scary but it might be worth it, trust me," she concluded. 

"You think I should make amends." It wasn't a question, just a statement he made as her words sunk in.

Linda shook her head. "Not exactly. I think you should give her the option to forgive you, if that's what she wants. Driving people away from us is a form of control. If you really want her to have a choice, she should be able to see the full picture, the bad _and_ the good. I think this is the only way you can finally start working on yourself, too."

He swallowed dryly. Lucifer realized what he feared the most was her forgiveness because in a way he thought he didn't deserve it. But the Doctor knew better than him. 

"Thank you," he said, and Linda smiled kindly at him, making him lift a corner of his mouth in return.

"See you next week, same time?" She asked him, extending a hand in front of herself. 

Lucifer enveloped it with his own, giving it a little squeeze before they shook hands. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

  
Hours later, with a glass of his usual whiskey back at Lux, he couldn't stop thinking about her words. The Doctor had deeply affected him, making him reevaluate many things, not all of them related to Chloe.  
He spotted Maze in her usual corner behind the bar, leaning against the shelves full of bottles with a cloth dangling from her hand. She seemed lost in thought just as much as he had been.

Moving closer to her, he put the glass down and motioned to her with a finger to come closer. She begrudgingly obeyed, rolling her eyes and taking her sweet time to come face to face with him.

"You could have asked someone else to serve you," she bit out, grabbing the bottle from behind the bar. When she was about to pour the liquid into his glass, Lucifer grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"I don't need a drink right now. I wanted to talk about something else entirely," he said, letting go of her arm when she finally relaxed a little.

"What?"

"I've had an epiphany of sorts," he announced. "You manipulated me Mazikeen. It doesn't matter how you spin it, you went behind my back and kept information from me. I get why you did it, but you really shouldn't have," he told her and her features hardened immediately, ready to fight. "However, you were right. I was a bad friend to you, and for that, I am truly sorry. You did not come here to be a bartender. The only reason why you stayed on Earth with me is your loyalty to me and I appreciate it, but maybe this is not your place."

She looked at him in confusion and took a breath to say something, but he stopped her with a gesture of his hand.

"I know what it feels like to live in a place you hate, amongst creatures you despise, and you do not deserve that. So, consider your vow to me annulled. You can ask Amenadiel to bring you back home if you please, I will not hold it against you," he said, lifting the glass to drink the last drops of the liquor. "I would take you myself but you know..." he gestured towards his back, where his pearly white wings used to be. 

Lucifer watched as her eyes filled with tears, her expression stoic as if trying to mask whatever emotion she was feeling. He knew Maze was not big on expressing how she felt and it was okay. They understood each other, or at least they used to. 

"I hope you will find your place, Maze," he concluded, and with that, he walked away from the bar and towards the elevator, extracting his phone.  
He still had one last apology for that day, the hardest he would ever have to make.


End file.
